


We Are Fighting Memers

by chibiwriter



Category: Pokemon GO
Genre: Crack Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Memes, Other, Plot Discovered Halfway Through Writing, Transplanted Character - Freeform, Watch As The Writer Frantically Pulls It From Her Ass In Real Time, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibiwriter/pseuds/chibiwriter
Summary: “Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Go said, rubbing his temples, “You’re Spark, my headache of a boss, trainer of the legendary bird Zapdos, and the leader of Team Instinct… but from anotherworld?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [surfacage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surfacage/gifts).



> You guys remember those old 'Character A ends up in Universe B's setting' transplant fics? Yeah, this is one of those. For extra funsies, there are _two_ memelords in the same space and time - fanon Spark (cinnamon roll) and Ashverse Spark (sinnamon roll).
> 
> ... [God save us all](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE4b9jO1uB4).
> 
> As always, please be sure to send [surfacage](http://www.surfacage.net/) all your love and support! ❤

It was almost midnight, yet the sky flickered bright as day.

He stared at the gathering storm clouds, no expression on his face to reveal the deep-rooted unease he felt. They swirled, formless and frothy, darkening on the horizon. Flashes of lightning danced throughout the front; yet, no rain fell, no thunder sounded. Could the clouds possibly be hollow? How absurd. His skin itched, the scent of ozone heavy in the air, clogging every pore and making him restless.

It was as though the world was holding its breath.

Standing on the top of the Go Tower, he had an excellent view of the oncoming storm, yet he felt no connection to it. That was not how it was supposed to be, not since the time beyond time, not until-

 “What’s going on?” Candela called as she crossed the roof to stand beside him, her eyes glinting crimson when he met her gaze. “Spark? … Zapdos?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted colorlessly, eyes flashing gold when another volley of soundless lightning strikes flashed in the sky. He frowned, fingers twitching, as the clouds approached the tower and the epicenter of the storm paused to hover over them.

“You don’t _know_?”

He shot her a glare for her incredulous tone, turning when another set of footsteps drew his attention, the hair on the back of his neck rising at the sudden chill in the air.

“Something is coming,” Blanche intoned as they, too, approached from the stairwell, their eyes glowing an icy blue. “That much is certain.” A platoon of Mystic interns and scientists were recording the event, a swarm of reporters and other media technicians surrounding the base of the tower, doubtlessly pressing to be let in and conduct their own coverage.

“Yes,” he said slowly, frowning in a mixture of annoyance and consideration, tilting his head back to stare at the swirling mass of clouds above them, “But what?”

The answer arrived with the sky splitting apart, a large rift sucking in the clouds. Spark grabbed the other two and pinned the three of them to the railing, winds howling and tearing at their clothes and hair. His heart stopped for a moment when he felt one of his hands slip, Candela tightening her hold on his waist and planting her feet to compensate.

Then the rift closed, tossing out a limp human body.


	2. Chapter 2

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Go said, rubbing his temples, “You’re Spark, my headache of a boss, trainer of the legendary bird Zapdos, and the leader of Team Instinct… but from another _world_?”

“That does seem to be the case,” the doppelganger said, smiling sheepishly where he sat in the hospital bed, “To be honest I don’t really understand it all that much, myself.”

Go sighed, wishing he could be as blasé as Carl about drinking while on the clock. “Right, well, we can’t exactly pass that along to the press.” He was gratified when the not-Spark-but-still-Spark’s eyes widened, shaking his head almost violently.

“No, I agree, that would be an awful idea!” he said, chewing his lip fretfully, “I don’t suppose we could say I was just a random intern either, huh? Got caught up in an experiment gone wrong and that’s why I needed to go to the hospital?”

“I wish. That would certainly make things a little easier in some regards,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, “Unfortunately, someone managed to snag a snapshot of you when Spark was carrying you to the ambulance. The internet has exploded, of course.”

“Oh, goodie,” Not-Spark said dully, looking as enthused as Go felt, “I don’t suppose it was one of those grainy, shitty cellphone pics?”

“That’s asking the universe to be too kind,” Go replied tartly, “Ever wanted an HD shot of your ugly mug? Because you could literally count the pores on your nose with the picture that’s currently plastered on the front page of every newspaper in Opal City right now.”

“I’m… good, thanks.”

There was a moment of silence, each mulling over the situation. The heart monitor beeped in between his breaths, and Go found himself studying Spark’s lookalike.

He looked exactly the same... except not. His hair was a shade or two darker, leaning slightly more toward brown than the vibrant shade his team leader had; it was grown a little longer, too, so it wasn’t quite the undercut Spark sported these days. There was a spray of light freckles across his cheeks and nose, barely there but utterly _devastating_ when he smiled. Which he did often. His energy (if there was such a thing?) was softer, too – more like a sunbeam or spring shower than a power plant ready to explode.

He was like… a shiny Spark.

“What’s the current theory? About my origins?” he asked suddenly, grinning when Go jerked himself out of his stupor, “Blanche- er, _my_ Blanche, that is, always said the public wants to believe what it wants to believe. Go with the most popular, feasible option and people will accept it without question… Or something like that!”

Go blinked in surprise, unable to suppress the impressed noise he made. The bastard was clever, he’d give him that. Or he just actually listened to what other people told him, as compared to the Spark from this world who existed in a series of half-baked plans that had somehow not managed to kill him.

 _Yet_.

He sighed, going through his tablet’s newsfeeds with a few precise movements of his fingers. Go raised a brow at a few of the headlines, snorting derisively at others. “Well, it seems everyone wants to say you’re either a clone-”

“Ha!”

“-or you’re a long-lost twin.”

“Oooh, like Luke and Leia! I hope I’m Luke – I don’t think I could pull off buns.”

Go shot him a withering glare.

Not-Spark pinked under his scrutiny, coughing awkwardly, then frowned. “Joking aside, ‘long-lost twin’ may be too difficult to pull off,” he said slowly, tugging at the edge of the thin hospital sheet, “Especially if birth records are pulled up.”

“I agree,” Go replied, pleased by the surprising exercise in foresight, making a few notes on his tablet. “All three leaders’ backgrounds might be called into question if we even try to make a claim that large. And that could spell trouble.”

He paused to hum, fingers hovering over the conspiracy theory on a well-to-do blog. Now _here_ was something they could roll with. “What about a distant cousin?”

“Depends: do distant cousins generally look like mirror images of each other here?”

Go had to look up to make sure he wasn’t just being a piece of shit, only to discover the look of genuine curiosity to his eyes. That was another thing that separated him from Go’s leader – that glowing, untarnished, unapologetic desire to understand. It would be cute (and maybe a little awe-inspiring) if it didn’t come from someone that shared a face with the asshole who was currently in charge of getting on Go’s every last nerve.

“Only if they’re as good-looking as us, buddy!”

Speaking of which.

Go turned to glare at Spark as he sauntered into the room. Not-Spark brighten considerably, chuckling when the team leader moved over closer to the bed and ruffled his hair. They’d taken to each other immediately, both chiming ‘ _Instinct!_ ’ when asked how it was possible. Which would normally be extremely obnoxious – but, given the circumstances, Go went ahead and accepted it at face value to save himself some headache.

Spark’s eyes flashed gold, smile surprisingly genuine when his doppelganger reached up to return the favor, ducking slightly so his fingers could tease the longer strands at the top of his head. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” Not-Spark even batted his lashes, grinning when Spark made kissy noises back.

“Aw, you sure know how to butter a guy up!”

They shared a laugh and Go fought the urge to vomit. “How did the press conference go?” he demanded, setting his tablet aside and standing with a stretch. His back popped in several places as he was horribly reminded of how long he’d been on Doppelganger Duty. “The wifi here was too spotty for me to livestream it.”

“It went as well as can be expected,” Spark said, shrugging and gesturing at his lookalike, “Everyone’s all in a tizzy about this dude. Can’t really blame them – he _is_ a handsome devil, after all!” His smile was pure smug delight, Not-Spark snorting and shoving his shoulder playfully in reply.

Oh, he was totally getting a _kick_ out of this situation. That made one of them.

“Focus, asshole,” Go growled, crossing his arms.

Spark rolled his eyes, mirth not dissipating in the slightest in the face of his annoyance. Not that it ever did, but still. “There’s not really much more to tell. We gave the official report that the storm was just the titans messing around – old news, at this point, to anyone that lives here. The sky sucking up the clouds was written off as Articuno and Zapdos throwing a combined hissyfit.”

“And people bought it?” Not-Spark asked, running a hand through his hair to try and rearrange it to be more presentable. It did not work; static electricity was a likely culprit. Spark’s grin only widened when he huffed and gave up, winking when he caught Go’s eye.

What a jerk.

“Yup! Though, admittedly, we had Blanche read off some of the data they collected to back up the story. That generally gets some of the more stubborn people to back down.”

“Oh, we do that, too! And whoever doesn’t believe Blanche tends to believe Candela. I just stand in the back, yanno, doing interpretive dance moves.” Not-Spark even pantomimed some of the motions, arms moving sensuously in a series of convoluted shapes. He grimaced when he accidentally tugged on the IV sticking out of his arm.

Spark threw his head back and laughed, eyes twinkling. “I like this guy! Can we keep him, Go?”

“ _Absolutely not_!”

His leader pouted but Not-Spark looked a little relieved.


	3. Chapter 3

“Quit fidgeting! Honestly, aren’t you also a team leader where you’re from?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, pausing to smother a yelp when she pinched him again, “Sorry! I just don’t like suits.”

“Ah, a pity. You look positively _delicious_ , darling.”

Candela’s smile was pointed and he got the feeling she meant it in both senses.

“Thank you?” He glanced over his shoulder, sniffing in discomfort, then faced forward with his eyes locked on the entrance.

The golden glow of the dance hall filtered out, the low murmur of other people pausing when Spark and Blanche were announced and entered, arms linked in much the same way his and Candela’s were. Blanche was heart-stoppingly gorgeous in their blue dress, and he’d almost started crying like Spark when they came out in it. They’d been so innocently confused and concerned, worried he was reliving some trauma or bowled over by intense homesickness (which he admittedly _was_ feeling but too stubborn to let it show).

They were a blessing, really.

“So, um, why do I have to attend this gala with you guys again?”

“Mostly to give the people what they want,” she admitted, rearranging her feather cape, “They won’t stop pressing for an interview with you. This way, the public gets to see you but can’t get to you. As for the people who have a little more, well, to _offer_ – who knows?”

“So, you’re basically dangling me in front of them like a piece of bait in the hopes your sponsors will offer more money just for the chance to talk with me?”

Candela pouted at him. He tried not to find it cute. Failed miserably.

(God, he missed his Candy.)

“Well, it sounds a lot worse when you put it like that.”

“How else am I supposed to put it?”

She didn’t reply, moving them closer to the entrance and giving their names. The caller looked a little perturbed, glancing out to where Blanche and Spark had gone and back at him to study his face. All he could do was give him a smile as they, too, passed through.

Their names echoed out across the dance hall, the buzz of countless conversations cutting off almost immediately.

“Why did you choose that name?” she asked quietly as they began to descend the stairs, preening when all eyes turned to them. “‘Volt’ – it’s a little odd, if you ask me.”

 “It’s a family name.”

“Oh? Ah, I get it. ‘Spark’. ‘Surge’. How quaint!”

“Thanks,” he said, eyes meeting Spark’s from across the room, “It was our dad’s.”

Candela glanced at him when they reached the floor, her hand tightening on his arm the closest thing she could offer to an apology. While some things were different between he and his other self, most things had unfortunately remained consistent.

If he were so inclined, he’d hope there was even just one world out there where young Spark got to keep his parents.

“Oh, we also chose it because ‘Spork’ was already taken.”

She shot him a glare and he grinned, glad to exchange pity for exasperation. The dance hall light glistened on the floor, tinting everything with warm hues. People had begun to talk amongst themselves again, the low murmur from before ranked up to a dull roar. He could feel eyes on him, intense and unwavering, and shifted uncomfortably.

It was going to be a long evening.

“Funny,” Candela eventually said dryly, huffing out an amused breath, “But the position of ‘evil relation with a goofy name’ has already been filled.”

“Really? By who?”

“Blanche’s unfortunate twin.”

He stopped to gawk at her.

“Wait, Blanche has a _twin_?!”

By the look Candela shot him, he could tell was going to be a _really_ long evening.

\---

“Heeyy, there you are!”

Volt jumped a little when Spark threw an arm around his neck, smiling at him despite his heart trying to beat out of his chest. “Hey, yourself!” he replied, shoving him playfully, “You’ve been avoiding me all evening – is that any way to treat your _favorite_ ‘cousin’?”

“Sorry about that,” Spark grunted, stealing the olive from his martini, “Everyone wants a piece of the team leaders, you know.”

“I do,” he admitted, pouting at his now-oliveless drink, “To be honest it’s a little surreal to be on the outside of it all. I’m grateful, though – you guys look like you deal with much more aggressive press coverage.”

Spark groaned, muttering. “You have _no_ idea.”

“Anyone try to sneak into your apartment and find out what color underwear you prefer?” Volt asked, chuckling when he glared at him.

“You joke, but I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, lips twitching at the horrified look on his doppelganger’s face, “Thankfully I subvert all of that by being as candid as humanly possible in my interviews.” The mischievous twinkle to his eyes said much about the nature of such open conversations.

Volt scoffed. “Oh, I can only imagine how _thrilled_ your assistant is when you do that. He’s the surly type, right?”

“Nah, not normally. That attitude’s probably my fault. And besides,” he said, leaning closer as though to share a secret, “It’s Candela you have to watch out for. Public image is kind of a _thing_ for her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Spark sighed, eyes tracing her brilliant red figure as she and Blanche twirled out on the dancefloor. Fire and ice had always been fascinating to watch. “Image and strength – her two core values. And passion. And pride. And-”

“Well, the second half I can understand,” Volt said, sipping his martini. It was good, strong as the other tw- _three_ he’d been throwing back all evening. It was probably a bad idea, given how alcohol tended to make him very, well: “But is hiding away part of yourself to conform to a socially-preferred identity being strong? Or weak?”

Spark could only gape at him. “What?”

“I mean, she’s goofy sometimes, too, right? And a hothead, if what you’ve told me is true.” He waved a hand toward her. “Not this sultry, smoky figure she seems to want everyone to think she is. You’d think someone that values strength so much would be strong enough to be true to themselves.”

In truth, he didn't know enough about the Valor leader to make such claims. How much of the act was bluster, how much was innate? The line between the titans and their bonds was thin in this world, and he smelled ash and cinder often when she was around. Perhaps it was a side effect of their relationship, but he somehow doubted that was the whole of it. This Candela was every bit as confounding and awe inspiring as his own - she just cloaked herself and her intentions better.

That amount of intuition was eerie, even to him, even if it was probably somewhat skewed. He’d blame the alcohol for it. Or his own bitterness at how this world was just slightly _off_ enough to put him constantly on edge.

_"You should've been, uh, a philosopher," Candela said, leaning back against the couch cushions of the common room._

_"Huh?" he replied intelligently, pausing in his ministrations. He peered up at her from where he lay on his back on the floor, hands stilling on her foot. They hadn't turned on any of the lights when they'd stumbled back here after the inaugural banquet, so it was nearly impossible to make out her expression._

_"You know," she drawled, waving a hand with half-lidded eyes, "if you hadn't been chosen by Willow to be an assistant. And now, a team leader."_

_"Why do you say that?" he muttered, only half-interested to know the answer as he pressed his thumbs into the arch of her foot just to listen to her hiss and sigh. While the red and white team leader outfit was absolutely stunning on her, she was still getting used to wearing heels all the time. Hence the foot massage he was giving her while he held down the floor and willed the world to stop spinning._

_God, maybe drinking wine had been a bad plan after all._

_Blanche was going to mock him for being such a lightweight later, he was sure of it._

_"I dunno," Candela said softly, a low moan creeping past her lips as he rubbed at the sore muscles in her heel, "You just have this really interesting way of viewing the world. Prolly still be a hatchist, though, since that's your passion."_

_Spark hummed, grinning slightly as he closed his eyes, memorizing the feeling of her smooth ankle, tickling her toes just to hear her snort. "I think so, too. It goes without saying that Blanche'd be a Professor. Just like how you'd be in the League."_

_"You think so?"_

_"Yeah," he breathed, picking up her other foot from where it dangled over the edge of the couch and resting it on his chest, running his knuckles along the top of it, "That or, um, be Pokemon Masters. The both of you would be amazing, I'm sure."_

_She perked up at the sentiment. "Really? You think I'm good enough to be a Master?" That vulnerability was rarely heard in her tone, premised only ever by alcohol and appearing selectively behind closed doors._

_He smiled up at her, pinching her pinky toe playfully. "I **know** so!"_

“Well, she’s one hell of an actress, no matter what,” this world's Spark said, shrugging, “She plays this stupid socialite game pretty well. Uses the persona to her advantage, to the advantage of her team.”

Volt shook himself out of his memories and nodded, reflective and a little melancholy. “I suppose it would take a strong person to put aside personal preference for the betterment of the group,” he paused to sigh, eyes sad as he watched Candela dip Blanche, her laugh at their doubtlessly disgruntled expression soaring brightly over the din, “Still, I wish she could be free to let loose from time to time.”

Spark cleared his throat, still honestly a little in awe of, well, himself, before frowning slightly.

“Candela ‘letting loose’ generally results in fire damage, ‘cousin’.”

“… Oh.”


	4. Chapter 4

The club was loud and lively, packed to the brim despite it being a weeknight. That was probably due to the team leaders showing up unannounced and ready to party. Those sorts of things didn’t tend to stay private, what with all the access to social media people had these days. Not to mention he’d taken a selfie and ‘accidentally’ forgotten to take off his geotag. Candela was gonna roast him alive for it later, once she’d peeled herself off the floor.

Speaking of people that wanted to roast him alive-

Spark rolled his eyes when a glass slammed down on the bar next to him, taking another sip of his drink before turning slightly. “Evening, Noire. It’s been a while, huh?”

“Shut up, asshole,” they growled, shoulders tense as they barked for the bartender to refill their glass with ‘whatever the fuck you find first’, “What’s this I hear about you having a cousin that looks exactly like you? So jealous of me and Blanche you went looking through your pathetic family tree?”

As if anyone in their right mind would be jealous of that aggressively love-hate, I'll-kill-you-but-also-kill- _for_ -you relationship. Then again, he couldn’t say for certain he’d ever been in his right mind.

Food for thought.

“Oh, right, you were out of town!” Spark grinned, waving toward where Volt stood practically swarmed by people on the dancefloor. “There he is!” Volt caught the gesture and carefully made his way over to them, delicately turning down a pair of panties a drunk girl tried to tuck into his shirt. He looked at Noire curiously as he approached.

“Hello!” he said cheerily, tilting his head when Noire just made a small, disbelieving noise in reply as they looked between the two of them.

“Well, now I know how _that_ feels,” they grumbled, shaking their head, “Weird.”

(It went without saying that they were speaking on behalf of anyone who had ever encountered twins.)

“Are you really related to this asshole?” Noire asked – demanded, really – poking a finger into Spark’s cheek. They squawked in indignation when he turned his head quickly and bit their fingertip, swatting at his chin with a half-formed fist.

“That’s what they tell me,” Volt quipped, sharing an amused glance with Spark as he rubbed his abused jaw, “Why?”

Noire squinted at him, just tipsy enough to not notice their lips puckering. While the expression would’ve been ridiculous on anyone else, it surprisingly seemed less so on their face. “I don’t know… ” they said slowly, “I just get the idea that there’s something more you’re not telling me.”

“Good instincts,” Volt remarked, moving to flank Noire against the bar. He flagged down a second bartender and ordered a whiskey and coke, glancing over at the Team Rocket Executive when they snorted.

“What?”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” They pointed to the drink Spark was nursing, the dark liquid bubbling traitorously. “You ordered the same thing!”

“Aw, Noire, I didn’t know you cared!” Spark cooed, grinning at them, “It really makes me feel appreciated.”

“What the fuck are you on about now, birdbrain?” they sneered, snatching up the new drink the first bartender slid their way and knocking it back. Their lips curled, nose wrinkling at the taste of what was apparently strong liquor.

“You know my drink orders by sight alone. That’s pretty-”

“I have eyes, dumbass,” they scoffed, rolling their aforementioned eyes, “My _point_ was that he ordered it in the same damn way!” They mimicked the gesture Volt had made to flag down the bartender.

Admittedly, Volt couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen anyone else motion at people in a lightning bolt pattern.

“Oh no, it’s as though no one can pick up habits from one another!” Spark teased, yelping when they punched him in the side. “Ow, okay, geeze, we’ll tell you the truth!”

“We _will_?”

Spark just winked at him, taking another sip from his own whiskey and coke.

Thirty minutes and one surprisingly coherent explanation later saw Amelie coming over to put a hand on Noire’s back, palm warm between their shoulder blades. Spark and his doppelganger had both wondered off back to the dancefloor, trying to do the tango with one another in a swarm of bodies thick enough to be a mob.

They lifted their head out of their hands, glancing at her with large eyes.

“Holy shit,” was all they could say.

Amelie rolled her eye, scoffing. “I’ll take it you met Volt,” she said dryly, perching up on the bar next to them, lifting her chin challengingly when the first bartender glared daggers at her for it, “He’s a charmer, from what I hear. A little ‘out of this world’, too.”

Noire squinted up at her in consideration, swaying slightly in their seat.

“You knew!?” they cried after a minute, reeling back in obvious betrayal. She put a hand on their shoulder to keep them from tumbling over – which they immediately shrugged off and nearly ended up on their ass regardless.

“Of course I did,” she admitted, sighing after they’d righted themselves, “Carl told me as soon as it happened. Warned me to not let you coordinate any attacks on Instinct territory for a while since we might target the wrong one.”

“… does he have a titan, too? Volt, I mean.”

Amelie paused at the surliness of their tone. “ _That_ I don’t know.” She narrowed her eye suspiciously. “Why? Are you thinking of taking his instead of Spark’s?”

Trying to comprehend the logistics of such a mission made her head hurt. The last thing they needed was from a bunch of wacky scientists thinking up ways to travel to parallel worlds to steal rare or even legendary Pokemon.

That just smelled like trouble. And a _lot_ of paperwork.

“Is that even possible?” Noire waved her off before she could even reply. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna go after him.”

“Oh?” She couldn’t help her surprise. “Care to share with the class as to why?”

They didn’t respond immediately, looking past her to stare at the dancefloor.

Spark had managed to drag Blanche’s assistant out onto the floor, performing some dorky, hip-hop inspired version of a swing dance with her. They were laughing, red-faced and glowing, eyes glittering with matching glee as he spun her quickly and then lifted her off the ground. Candela mimicked the motion with more flare than a tipsy person should possess, Volt whooping loudly when she attempted to hold him up, his toes barely leaving the ground for their height difference.

“He’s like, I don’t know, a bean," Noire said slowly, propping their chin up on the counter. Amelie studied them for a moment, brows furrowed in confusion.

“A… bean, Boss?”

“Yeah,” they said, distracted, “A little bean. A- A smol bean? With the face of an asshole.”

“… If you say so.”

\---

“Do you think,” they said a few hours later when they were both piled in her bunk, so softly she almost didn’t catch it, “That Blanche would be happier in a world where I didn’t exist?”

Amelie opened her eye, trying to tilt her head up to look at them. Their expression was unreadable in the dark, but their eyes had always been a weak point.

Whatever Volt had said to them about his world had apparently struck a nerve, and she could only imagine how much they'd stewed on it on the way back to the compound. Judging from what little intel she had on Spark's lookalike, he probably hadn't even realized that his descriptions of a world - that was arguably more amicable, if his persona was anything to go by - could affect Noire so much.

“It doesn’t matter if they’d be happier, Boss,” she said just as softly, ducking her head back down so they couldn’t see her face, “ _I’d_ be sad if you were gone.”

“Amelie…”

Did they have to sound so surprised? So choked?

“I’d also be out of a job, which would _royally_ suck.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, you awake?”

“No.”

“Dude, seriously? Your hands keep… shocking me.”

Golden eyes slid open, a brow quirking in the darkness of the bedroom. “Why ask when you know the answer?” it replied, lips twitching when Volt pouted. They were each on their sides, facing the other, legs intertwined like puzzle pieces. The sheets were soft and smelled clean, like the shampoo that they both used, covering the two of them in a warm cocoon that graciously beat back the night’s chill. It moved closer, rubbing their noses together, pleased when his eyes slid shut and he relaxed.

Such trust. How sweet.

Volt smiled and moved back a little, eyes a shade darker in the moonlight. “Hey,” he said, nestling his head back into the pillow so he could eye it in consideration, “Do you like me?”

What sort of question was that?

“Yes. You are easy to like.”

“Ah, well, thanks.” Volt bit his lip, blushing, and it found that _very_ endearing. Also arousing. Why had it agreed to wear pants to bed? “But, I meant- Ugh, never mind. It’s stupid.” He tried to turn over but found its arms had tightened around his waist.

“What?” it asked, attempting to tilt Spark’s head in a manner that conveyed its curiosity.

He didn’t answer immediately, obviously choosing his words very carefully. “In this world, everything is different.” Volt looked up, expression pained. “ _You_ are different. I never thought I’d wish I could go back to hearing simple chirps and squawks and having my hair messed with constantly-”

“I can do that, too, if you’d like,” it offered, raising a hand to run Spark’s fingers through his hair.

Volt scoffed, but his eyes looked sad and the smile that twitched across his lips splintered after a few moments. It moved the hand down to cup his jaw, thumb tracing his cheek. His freckles had faded slightly, this world’s winter running opposite to his world’s summer and stealing the sun he needed to keep the little spots. It missed them. Spark did, too. The sadness in Volt’s smell stuck out more the paler his skin got.

“What can I do?” it asked, studying him.

The amount of surprise that appeared on his face was almost offensive.

“What?” he squeaked, clearing his throat before repeating, " _What_?"

It blinked slowly, indulgently. “You are troubled. How can I help?”

Volt hesitated. “Why… do you care?”

“Should I not?” it asked, once again tilting Spark’s head.

“Ah, no. I-I mean, yes! Maybe?” His fingers twitched in agitation and it had to resist the urge to snatch them from where they rested on Spark’s waist and bite them. Spark was not very ticklish, but the movements were _distracting_. “You can, if you want. I just really can’t understand why, uh, you would want to.”

“You don’t understand why I would want to care for you?” It said the words slowly, tasting them on Spark’s tongue. Volt bit his bottom lip, unsure, then nodded with a jerk of his head.

Well. It was a bit early to get metaphysical – but, then again, there was no time like the present.

“We are infinite,” it began, uncaring for the usual pomp and circumstance that such a conversation would entail (it could _feel_ the other two simmering with rage), “Our lives span eons, across the existences of stars and extend into the realms of the unknown. Even into alternate universes, into alternate lives. Our reach is limitless.”

It paused to give Volt time for the sentiment to process, taking his hands in Spark’s and interlacing their fingers.

“There are worlds, lives, where you do not exist. Others, then, are chosen to be my bond,” it said, words soft as it studied their fingers in the moonlight, “But in the worlds where you _do_ exist, you are mine.”

“Always?”

“Yes.”

“So…” The word hung in the air for a moment and Volt seemed a little lost in thought. “You care for me, not out of your own volition but because it is simply what you do in every life? What about him?” He nodded toward it, but it knew he was indicating… himself.

“It is instinctive to protect and nurture that which is mine,” it replied simply, shrugging, “There is not really much more of an explanation beyond that.”

“Wait, so you consider me yours, too, right? Even though I don’t bear your mark in particular?” He rubbed a thumb along the burn on Spark’s right palm and it had to resist the urge to smirk. Spark’s hands had long since lost feeling, but he treated them delicately, as though the wounds were still fresh.

The things it could **not** say: “ _You belong to me at all points in time and space, but I’m a possessive asshole in all my various lives that doesn’t really like to share. So, if I try to mark you as mine in this world – disregarding the fact I already **have** marked you here, technically – the me from **your** world will literally rip the universe apart trying to come here and kick my ass._ ”

The thing it _did_ say: “Yes.”

That seemed to appease Volt because he blew out a harsh breath. He ran a hand through his own hair, bangs flopping back down onto his forehead - he was going to need a haircut soon. He paused, though, lips pursing in thought.

It resisted the urge to sigh.

“What is it _now_ , fledgling?” The look of offended annoyance that flashed across Volt’s face at the term was highly entertaining. It would need to remember that for later teasing.

He shook his head, staring at it with bright, inquisitive eyes. “Protectiveness and nurturing are instinctive, like you said. What… What about affection?”

Ah, well, that explained his earlier question.

“Affection develops in time, and presents itself in a myriad of ways,” it purred, releasing his hand to stroke down his stomach, fingers lingering pointedly on the dips of his hip bones, “Shall I show you mine?” The arousal from earlier returned and it carefully nudged Spark’s knee between his legs as a silent promise.

Volt chuckled, hesitant but not objecting. He was likely just as willing to put this heavy conversation to rest – for now, at least. “Wouldn’t that be, like, the ultimate form of masturbation?”

It receded slightly, letting Spark be the one that smiled, their eyes a matching blue. “Let’s find out, ‘cousin’.”

\---

Go held out the box of tissues wordlessly, eyes dull as he looked around the room with feigned indifference. The other technicians peered into the solo lab from time to time, intrigued by Spark’s ‘cousin’ and astonished that he would also turn out to be a skilled hatchist. That he got his own private workstation was mildly contested, but thankfully his results more than made up for the disgruntled grumblings of the first few days.

The current theory was that breeding skills ran in the family, though most were just more than happy to work alongside someone as cheerful and competent as the newcomer.

He had to resist the urge to snort every time he heard _that_ excuse.

“Are you always this sentimental?” Go asked, looking back down at the man in question.

Volt took a few of the tissues and blew his nose, rubbing at his eyes to clear them of tears. “What do you mean?” he asked thickly, sniffling. His eyes were bluer when bloodshot, fading freckles standing out on his pale skin thanks to the florescent lighting. His brownish-blonde hair was held back by a borrowed headband, the electric green color almost glowing against the fluffy strands.

The assistant sighed, gesturing to him with his free hand. “Most people don’t burst into tears every time an egg hatches.”

“Dude,” Volt scowled, blowing his nose again before tossing the tissues into the waste basket. “Why _not_? You literally have a front row seat to watch nature do its thing. Millions of years of evolution and adaptation unfolding right before your very eyes.” He threw his hands into the air, almost knocking a beaker off the counter with his enthusiasm. “Not to mention the fact that you get to see a _new life_ be brought into this world! How can you _not_ be moved?!”

Go scoffed, exasperated but amused. “Yes, I agree, it’s an amazing phenomenon,” he admitted, shifting slightly, “But even obstetricians get numb to it after a while.”

“Which is super _weird_ , if you ask me. Babies come out screaming and crying and covered in blood - I don’t think I could ever get used to that!”

“Be that as it may,” Go said, dropping the box of tissues onto the desk so he could cross his arms, “You’ve cried no less than 26 times today and we still have an hour until lunch. Get it together, man. People are going to start thinking you’re getting bullied.”

"Rude." Volt pouted up at him, mimicking his posture despite sitting several inches shorter on his stool. “Though, while we’re on the topic, I think you’re bullying me, Go.”

“Oh, _really_?”

“Yes,” he said succinctly, pointing a gloved finger at him, “You’re bullying me because you don’t know where Spark’s gone off to and you think I do.”

Go scowled, uncrossing his arms so he could ball his fists at his sides. He considered lying or blowing him off, but those blue eyes were unnervingly analyzing. “Well?” he bit out sharply, “ _Do_ you?”

The slow smile that appeared on Volt’s lips was nothing like his normal sunny grins. In fact, it looked an awful lot like something that would appear on…

Spark chose that moment to saunter into the main lab, his entrance heralded by the greetings of several of the technicians. Go shot him a glare that stopped the leader in his tracks, making his way toward him almost on reflex. The scolding was also done out of habit, very likely ignored from the bored and unapologetic look to the blond’s face, but his mind wondered back to the smile he had just witnessed as he shoved Spark back out the door so they could haul ass across town and _maybe_ make it to their afternoon interview.

Go shuddered. It seemed he still had a lot to learn about Spark’s doppelganger, and he suddenly did not relish the thought of doing so.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big shout-out to my sister, [illysum](http://illysum.tumblr.com/), who was my ~~word gremlin~~ beta for this chapter. If I were to title this one, I'd call it 'The Interviews That Never End'. Not all chapters are gonna be this long (hopefully).

"So, Leader Spark! There seems to have been a great change in your personal life recently-"

"He's sitting right next to me, yanno."

"Yeah, don't talk about me like I'm not here!"

The audience laughed and the hostess (a former reporter named Kinsey) joined them, shooting Volt a overly-apologetic look. "My apologies, Mr. Volt," she said, "You're pretty hard to forget, I'm sure."

He grinned, scratching at the back of his neck. "Aw, thanks."

"In fact, while we're focusing on you for the moment," she said, glancing down at the papers arranged in front of her, "There doesn't seem to be a lot of information about your background."

"Is that so odd?" Spark asked, leaning back into his chair. His posture was relaxed, but the smile he pinned to his lips twitched slightly.

"Well, yes, actually," she said, waving a hand, "In this day and age, most people at least have _something_ out there. Don't get me wrong - he has all the basic information: birth certificate, high school and college degrees, hatchist certification, etc. But for an online profile, all we could find was the barest of bones."

"Ah, I think I can help you with that, actually!" Volt said, sitting up straighter when she turned her dark eyes on him. He cleared his throat, an endearing twinkle to his eyes when he clasped his hands together. "I grew up in a rural town. _Really_ rural. We didn't even have a Pokemon Center until five years ago! And it's pretty small. Like, barely the size of an inlet store in the mall!"

He paused to let the crowd murmur.

The hostess made a few notes on her sheet, a force of habit from her previous profession. Switching from hardcore reporting to cushy hosting was a gear shift, but it paid better so she couldn't really complain. She glanced over at Volt, her eyes glittering with curiosity. "Any chance you could give us the name of your home town? I'm sure there are tons of people that are dying to know more about you."

"Ah, sorry," he said, dipping his head, "I don't want people to go swarm the locals. It's out in the middle of nowhere and the Pokemon there are decidedly not-tourist-friendly - if you catch my meaning."

Kinsey pursed her lips, but the look on Spark's face kept her silent. She'd been told they wouldn't be answering too much for Volt's background in the briefing before they went live, but he couldn't really blame her for trying... could he?

"On a related note, I only recently started getting online because of Spark," Volt continued, glancing between the two of them nervously, "A really rural upbringing translates itself into me being kind of absent on social media, obviously, so I have a lot to catch up on!"

"I'm helping!" Spark chimed in, grinning when Volt raised a brow and looked in his direction.

"Does buying me the Holy Méme Bible _really_ count as helping?"

" _Yes_."

Volt laughed. "Alright, that's fair! But the vintage memes are where it's at. They're _vintage_ \- that's high quality! Keyboard Meowth for life!" He punctuated the sentiment by pantomiming banging on an air-piano, a large grin splitting his face.

"I'll convert you to the Cult of Kek yet!" Spark retorted, shaking a finger at him, "Just you wait - soon you, too, will know the wonders of the Rarest Pepe."

Kinsey shot a subtle look to her cameraman, Tevin, who shrugged while Go, Spark's assistant, stood silently beside him. The poor man hadn't pried his hand away from his eyes the entire interview. She almost felt sorry for him. The past few weeks had been rough to be sure, but this airing would (hopefully) help put some of the hype to rest.

She doubted it, though.

"Oh! Going back to my background for a quick second!" Volt said suddenly, nearly bouncing in his seat, "Did you know that there are conspiracy theories about where I came from?"

"There are _conspiracy theories_ about you?" Spark piped up before the hostess could reply. Volt just shrugged, his smile growing wider.

"Yup! Tons, actually - probably for the same reason Ms. Kinsey brought it up: there's not a lot out there on me," he paused to look over at her for confirmation, "A _lot_ of them are pretty far off, though. To be honest, I really like the ones that make the _least_ sense - they're pretty entertaining!"

"Such as?" she prompted, pen poised over a new sheet of paper.

"Oh, you know, the usual tin-hat ramblings," Volt said, rolling his eyes and waving a hand, "I'm a _clone_. Or long-lost _twin_. Or even that we're the _same person_ from different _parallel universes!_ " The studio audience rumbled with laughter at the sheer impossibility of such an idea, Tevin's shoulders shaking with the effort of repressing his own. Thank goodness the camera was on a mount.

"But none of those are your favorite, are they?" Kinsey asked, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk.

"You are correct, my friend!" Volt chirped, " _That_ one is a touching story. Such creativity." He sniffed, pressing a hand over his heart and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear it."

"Sure thing!" He smiled, glancing quickly at Spark. "You see, according certain groups on the internet, Spark _hatched_ me."

Kinsey stared blankly at Volt's innocent smile before hesitantly replying, "I'm sure that took a lot of time and effort on his part." Her lips twitched when she caught the look of amused surprise on the team leader's face. A few members of the audience laughed and Tevin rolled his eyes from his place behind the camera.

"Oh, but it gets better! _I_... was born a Ditto. Pretty rare in this neck of the woods, Dittos-- which reminds me: did you know that they have this really cool-"

"Bro," Spark cut in, "Focus." Kinsey raised her brows. Was the King of Non-sequiturs really redirecting someone to stay on track? She wondered if it was Go's doing, though there was likely another reason. Perhaps Volt was even worse than the leader of Team Instinct?

The mind boggled.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Anyway, Spark realized how special I was and released me so I would be able to choose my own trainer instead of being forced to do a lot of testing."

"My, how chivalrous," Kinsey said, forcing herself to keep a straight face, "And then what?"

"Well, normally a Pokemon such as myself would start trying to battle other Pokemon. Establish a hierarchy and the like. But I wasn't interested in any of that. Turns out that I loved Spark so much," he paused to lean forward for dramatic effect, his voice beginning to waver, "That I took his form, taught myself to speak, and came back so we could be a family."

There was a moment of stunned silence. The audience was completely still as the sound of Go's other hand slapping his face rang out across the studio.

"Son?" Spark said, turning toward Volt with a ridiculously tender expression.

"Dad?" Volt replied with a hitch in his voice, an equally silly look of fondness on his face.

The audience broke out of its reprieve when the two of them rose and embraced, loud, uproarious laughter nearly deafening. Someone's witch-like cackle rose above the others and only added to the hysteria. Kinsey had to cover her mouth and smother her own chortling, turning away from the camera slightly.

"Does this mean you'll start calling me 'daddy' now?" Spark asked, sitting back down with a vicious grin.

"Not in public!" Volt quipped, flopping into his own seat as another wave of laughter broke out.

Go groaned into his palms.

\---

"Gooooooddd evening Opal City! Tonight we have a very special panel: all three Leaders of the Go Program subsidiary teams as well as the Chief Operations Officer of Rocket Industries. We'll also be introducing a very popular celebrity guest! But first: a quick word from our sponsors!"

"Celebrity guest?" Blanche said, quirking a brow as the crew bustled about during the commercials, "We've never had one of those before."

"I was wondering what this spot was for," Spark said, looking at the empty seat between him and Candela.

Noire sat on his other side, scowling. "Why the hell we _need_ one is a better question," they grumbled, crossing their arms, "These are pretty much a guaranteed shitshow without adding some social-climbing asshole to the mix."

"That's because you and Candela almost come to blows every time you're in the same room, Noire. It's also why you're here at this end, with me and our 'guest' as buffers."

"Shut up, dumbass."

"Is that why?" Candela said, her smile smug, "And here I thought it was because they wanted to arrange us by relevance."

"That would make sense," Blanche said, cutting off their twin's angry retort, "After all, Mystic Laboratories _is_ the most powerful organization in the city."

Candela shot them a heated glare. "For _now_ , darling." Blanche's only answer was a smug smile of their own.

"Behave, you four!" Amelie called, frowning at them from the wings where she and the other assistants were gathered. Go was also glaring at them, his arms crossed. Annie shot them all a perky thumbs up and Carl looked as unflappable as ever.

Noire and the three leaders were dressed casually for the panel. They, themselves, had swapped their usual ensemble for a plain pink button-up and charcoal slacks and matching blazer. Spark couldn't be bothered to find an outfit that wasn't already in his closet and wore a simple white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and black slacks. Candela's red-and-gold wrapped dress was as tight as it was designer, and Blanche's navy pantsuit was highlighted with a silvery top (Candela's choice, obviously).

"Is everyone ready?" the announcer asked, looking them over.

"Sure thing!" Spark chirped, grinning. He'd always been chipper, but recently his attitude had become somehow even more charged than before. No one had to guess why that might be.

"Welcome back, Opal City! As you can see, we're honored once again to have the city's most influential people sitting on our panel. Tonight, they will answer a few questions from the crowd as well as a few you viewers have posted to Twitter using the hashtag 'OCWannaKnow'," the announcer paused to let the information sink in, smiling brightly, "And now we'll introduce our very special celebrity guest: his rise to fame has been fairly recent, but just about everyone seems to have fallen in love with our new resident golden boy! Please welcome - Volt!"

"Oh, for the love of Arceus," Blanche said dully, unheard as an obnoxious introduction song was played on the studio speakers.

Volt trotted out, a large grin on his face as he raised a hand to the camera. He shimmied a few steps, dancing to the beat of the song and almost tripping when he stepped up on the low dais where the panel table was set up. He flailed and caught himself using Noire's shoulder, his other hand grazing their hip.

"Watch your step, you flamboyant fuck," they growled, roughly removing his hands from their person.

"Sorry," Volt replied breezily, "I always stumble when I get lost in your eyes." Noire's ears reddened slightly despite the look of sheer disgust on their face. Then he winked at them and they scowled, swatting at his side. He dodged the blow easily, laughing.

"Here comes dat boi!" Spark crowed, reaching out to high-five his cousin as he passed behind him, "Oh shit waddup!"

" _He's_ our celebrity guest?" Candela said, raising a brow when Volt took the empty seat between her and Spark, "Seriously?"

"Agreed. I was expecting someone more... established." Blanche intoned.

"Hey, don't blame me! Everyone else was too scared to be in the same room as you four," he said, leaning toward Candela to whisper conspiratorially, " _Some_ people may have been afraid that you would come in and strangle them while they slept with your big, meaty arms - their words, not mine - if they said the wrong thing."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, but don't worry! I assured them you wouldn't have to wait for them to be asleep." Candela laughed, Spark snickered, and the twins each rolled their eyes - Blanche with exasperation and Noire with disgust.

"I'll take that to mean you all have been introduced?" the announcer said with an amused chuckle.

"Not at all!" Volt said, expression a mask of mischievous cheer, "I've never met these people before in my life."

"Oh, my bad," Spark said without missing a beat, sticking out his hand. "The name's Spark - the leader of Team Instinct."

"Nice to meet you, Spark!" Volt replied, shaking his hand, "I gotta say, you _do_ look rather familiar. In fact-"

"Will you two knock it off?" Noire snapped, scowling, "You can mess around on your own time."

"Oh, come on, Rocket. Lighten up!" Candela paused and looked over to the new addition, her lips twisting in distaste. "Though, darling, who dressed you? They need to be fired. Or set _on_ fire. Either way, I can help."

Volt pouted and looked down at his outfit. The maroon pants and dark polo shirt were fine, but the large black jacket with strange, obnoxiously shiny gold patterns seemed a little out of place. Shrugging he looked back at her with a smile and said, "Candela, when will you realize that my sole purpose in life is to offend _all_ your senses - including fashion!"

"Is that so?" she replied, wrinkling her nose, "Well, you are certainly going above and beyond the call of duty."

"If you're all _quite_ finished," Blanche broke in, their lips pulled down in a small frown, "I believe we have some questions from the audience to answer."

The four other panelists blinked and looked at the announcer with varying degrees of sheepish guilt and smug confidence.

Thankfully, the questions from the crowd were easy enough to answer. There were a few instances of one or the other leaders ribbing each other, and even more instances of them ganging up to harass the Rocket COO, but the atmosphere stayed surprisingly less tense than most would expect. Volt seemed to meld with the group easily, goofy one-liners and tangential rambles somehow helping keep the animosity to minimum.

That is, until they got to the Twitter questions and someone had the _gall_ to ask which of the two blonds knew the most egg puns.

Blanche closed their eyes and rubbed at their temples, sighing through their nose as Candela gleefully kept a tally on a borrowed sheet of paper. Noire had propped their chin up with a hand and was watching the volley with a quirked brow, torn between being annoyed and being impressed.

"Okay, you guys are gonna need to slow down - I'm running out of room!" Candela said, waving her pen at them. Both men paused, glancing at her.

"Well," Volt said, "I don't know what you _eggspected_."

"Yeah, whoever asked that question must've had their mind _scrambled_ ," Spark chimed in.

"Or _fried!_ "

Spark shot his cousin a grin, pointing at him with a finger gun. " _Eggsactly!_ "

"Seriously, how many of those do you two know?!" Noire demanded.

" _All of them_ ," the duo chimed in synchronization, high-fiving perfectly without looking at one another.

"So, at least two-dozen a piece," Blanche said under their breath, jerking when Spark and Volt started cackling. Candela's eyebrows had risen to hide behind her fringe and Noire was looking at them with an expression that was so utterly betrayed they almost felt the need to apologize. "What? What's wrong?"

"Not you, too!" Noire groaned, barely heard over the two idiots who were struggling to catch their breath.

Blanche glared at them, confused. "Not me too, what?"

"Darling, you just made a pun - an _egg_ pun."

"N-No, I didn't!" they protested, a heated blush rising to stain their cheeks as the realization dawned on them. "I was merely keeping track of-"

"Nuh uh!" Spark said, pointing at them with a vicious grin while Volt clapped rhythmically and chanted ' _One of us! One of us!_ ', "No take-backs!"

Blanche covered their face with their hand, muffling their groan of annoyed anguish. They glared at Candela when she leaned over and patted their shoulder in mock sympathy, catching the amused twinkle in her eyes. One Spark had been hard enough to deal with - two was just _painful_. Adding Candela's flare for the dramatic and Noire's _entire existence_ to the mix was making them realize they should have just stayed home.

Instead, they picked up the tablet they'd been given to read off the next Twitter question and scowled at it.

"My, that's an expression!" Candela said, delighted, "Is it a fun one, darling?"

"Hardly," they replied, scoffing before raising their voice to draw the other panelists' attention, "' _Leaders, which team would you chose to join if you couldn't be on your own? CG, which team would you join out of all three?_ ' How pointless."

"I don't know about that!" Volt said, grinning, "It sounds like it could be entertaining!"

"Well, what would be your choice, then?" Candela asked, her lips tilted up in an answering smile.

Blanche rolled their eyes. "As if you have to ask."

"Oh, I don't know," Volt said, leaning back into his chair with his arms crossed, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling in speculation, "That's a pretty tough decision. They each have a lot to offer."

"Of course they do," Candela said, shooting Noire a glare when they snorted.

"Yeah! Like, Mystic's fantastic!" he said, waving a hand, "The labs are top notch with all the latest technology and it has one of the biggest servers to-date. Their findings are published in scientific journals all over the world and there's no doubt that their evolution research is incredible - _and_ , if I'm remembering correctly, a lot of it becomes open to the public after a couple of years because sharing knowledge for the betterment of everyone is the most noble thing _ever_! Not to mention all their experiments are completely safe and humane!"

"Aw, you're making Blanche blush!" Candela cooed, letting out a pained grunt when they kicked her ankle, "Do my team next!"

"Well, since you asked so nicely-" he chirped, smiling as he ran a hand through his hair, "Valor's obviously got amazing strength, but they're also impressively diverse in their battle portfolios. Best gym setup, best training facilities. Hands down, they're a force to be reckoned with! All the trainers for Valor are extremely talented and their Pokemon can fight pound for pound in international competitions easily. And _then_ there's the local gym war they have going with Mystic that's just awe-inspiring and- and, uhhhh..."

Volt trailed off, lips pressing into a thin line as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pointedly continued to study the space above him. "He's glaring at me, isn't he?" he asked, voice trembling with poorly-concealed mirth.

"I'd call it pouting," Noire drawled.

"Yeah, that's _definitely_ pouting," Candela agreed.

Volt glanced at Spark and immediately burst out laughing. "I'm sorry- _I'm sorry!_ " he stuttered between giggles, "Instinct's the best! I choose Instinct!"

"Damn right you do!" Spark said, slinging an arm around his cousin's neck. His smile was fierce, and there was a tell-tale glint of yellow when he looked down at him. "Kissing up to those other teams - you'd better have saved the best for last!"

"Well, obviously! Yellow Squad needs no hype - it's already supercharged!"

"Yeah, supercharged with _awesome_!"

"You got it, dude!" Volt said, flashing a quick thumbs up.

This seemed to appease Spark because his smile softened and he chuckled, ruffling the other man's hair with an affectionate hand. They grinned at each other for a moment, matching expressions on matching faces.

"So!" Volt said, looking back at the other panelists, "What about you guys? What teams would you be on if you couldn't be on your own?"

"Team Mystic's a fairly easy pick for me," Candela replied, shooting Spark a faux-apologetic look, "Sorry, darling."

He just shrugged, waving her off. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'd choose Mystic, too."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Noire growled, frowning down the table at them, "We can't _all_ be on the same team! One of you has to change!"

"Wait, so you're choosing Mystic too, Noire?" Volt asked, blinking in surprise. He studied the three that had answered for a moment, narrowing his eyes at them suspiciously. "Are... Are you choosing it because you like the team itself, or because Blanche is the leader?"

"Blanche, of course!"

"Yeah, pretty much."

" _Duh!_ "

"Banned!" Blanche snapped, scowling fiercely despite the warm flush that colored their cheeks, "You're all banned - Noire especially!"

"Wow, rude."

"Well, _I_ certainly don't want them," Candela said with a haughty sniff, "Unless the trash learns to take _itself_ out, of course - preferably by jumping off the nearest tall building." She smirked at the incredibly dirty look they were sending her way, lifting her chin in defiance. It seemed, for a moment, Noire might stick their tongue at her.

"Don't worry, buddy," Spark chirped cheerfully before they could reply, "You can always join us on Instinct!"

Noire's expression spoke volumes. "I'd rather kiss the front end of a speeding express train, thanks."

"What about you, Blanche?" Volt asked, peering down the table at them, "You still haven't chosen a team."

Blanche scoffed. "I really don't see the need to-"

"Oh, come _on_ , darling!" Candela said, shoving their shoulder lightly. Her smile was positively blinding when they glared at her, golden hazel eyes glittering in the studio lights. "Would it kill you to indulge a little curiosity?"

"It might."

" _Blanche._ "

"Fine," they said briskly, staring directly into her eyes, "I'd choose Team _Instinct_." It was undeniably said out of spite, but that didn't stop Candela from looking horribly offended while Spark did a double fist to the air, Volt snorting by his side as Noire predictably crossed their arms and scowled.

"Hell yeah!" Spark said, "You, me, and Volt - the three amigos! Breaking hearts and stealing sponsors all across Opal City!"

"As if any of you could steal _anything_ ," Noire snapped, rolling their eyes.

"I have!" Volt chirped, "Stolen something, I mean. From a bank."

"Wait, really?" Spark said, shocked.

"Yeah," he said, his voice dropping, "It was a couple of years ago; I'd just signed for my first savings account and was walking out of the bank. I was feeling good until I was on the steps outside. Then, when I looked down, I saw I'd taken the teller's fancy fountain pen. It was shiny and black with _actual gold filigree_. I think it had her name inscribed on it, too."

"You returned it, then?" Candela asked, smiling indulgently at him before quirking a brow when he shook his head.

"No," he said, tone grave, "I never did - just kept walking and used it to sign stuff for many years."

Spark sat back, his expression unreadable as he stared down hard at the table in front of him. "Holy shit," he said softly, looking up, "I'm related to a _criminal!_ " Laughter erupted from the audience, the announcer covering his mouth where he stood off to the side, unneeded for this portion of the program.

"Spark, you're acting like a fool - well, more so than usual," Blanche said, "It's really not that-"

"It _is_ a big deal!" Spark protested, waving a hand, "You don't know what it's like!"

"No," Blanche replied drily, expressionless as they met their twin's stare, "I can't _begin_ to imagine what you're going through."

-/-

"Three am makes for some interesting video-watching experiences. That's how I ended up subscribing to, like, thirty beauty gurus. Also, may I just say that your eyeliner is sharp enough to kill a man?" Volt said, turning toward Candela, "And I respect that."

Candela laughed, pleased. "Careful, darling. You keep complimenting me like this and I might just steal you from Spark!" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and flirtily batted her eyelashes at him.

He smiled and shrugged in reply. "You could, actually, for employment purposes."

"Wait, what?!" Spark interrupted, frowning, "Dude, you're already working at the Sanctuaries. Instinct for life!"

" _Technically_ I'm only a 'Hatching Consultant' and not employed through any contract," Volt said, "So, I could switch jobs if I really felt the need. Did... Did you not care enough to know what position I held?" He looked genuinely hurt, blue eyes wide and lips pursed in a pout.

"Volt, buddy, no. It's not like that!" the team leader protested, "I was just jazzed to have you working with me! Titles don't really matter - hard work and good nest-side manner does. You know that!"

"So," Candela said slowly, letting the word stretch as she looked them over, her eyes lingering on Volt intensely, "What I'm hearing is you're basically fair game, right?"

"Uh," Volt replied intelligently, looking to Spark for help. His cousin looked concerned but didn't really have an answer. Even Blanche was leaning around Candela to stare at him, their eyes glittering with interest. The feeling was not unlike being sized up by a pack of wolves.

Or, more accurately, a flock of _very territorial_ birds.

"Hey, if those three start trying to bitch about 'owning' you, you can always come work at Rocket Industries," Noire chimed in, unconcerned, examining their nails and frowning at a small chip in the black polish on their right pinkie.

Volt jumped in his seat and peered over at them in disbelief. "Seriously?"

They blinked, looking just as surprised as the others on the panel at recognition of their nonchalant statement. Shrugging, they decided to roll with it. "Sure," they said, "I suppose we could always use a couple of eggheads in the labs." They punctuated the statement with an indifferent wave of their hand, but smirked when they caught sight of the utterly betrayed look on Spark's face.

"Do..." Volt paused, pursing his lips with a thoughtful tilt of his head as he studied the Rocket COO. "Do you offer dental?" Noire opened their mouth to respond but was immediately cut off.

"We offer dental! We do, right, Go?" Spark jumped in, looking over to his assistant for confirmation before turning back to Volt with wild eyes, "We offer the _best_ dental!"

"Spark, chill!" Candela said, laughing, "I highly doubt your cousin is going to skip over to Rocket before taking _my_ offer! If he decides to leave at all, of course."

"That's right! All this joking aside, I'm never gonna give you up, dude, never gonna let you down," Volt said solemnly, placing a hand on Spark's shoulder, "Never gonna run around and desert you!"  

"You're never gonna make me cry?" Spark continued without missing a beat, placing his hand on top of Volt's, "Never gonna say goodbye?"

Volt nodded. "Never gonna tell a-"

"Okay, that's enough of _that!_ " Candela broke in, sparing them both a glare that was partially amused before looking toward the Mystic leader, "Do we have any more questions to answer?"

"Just one," Blanche said, squinting at the tablet before sliding it down the table, "It's for Volt."

Volt took the tablet and looked over the question before reading aloud, "' _CG, FMK the Go Program Team Leaders!_ ' ... What?" He jumped in his seat when Spark burst out laughing next to him, Candela huffing in amusement on his other side. Blanche, of course, simply looked ready to go home while Noire snorted derisively and rolled their eyes.

"Oh man, these guys just don't know when to quit with that stuff!" Spark said, shaking his head in disbelief, "You don't have to answer that one, buddy."

"But it's the last question!" Volt protested, glancing back down at the tablet with furrowed brows, "What does 'FMK' mean, anyway?"

Spark opened his mouth to answer but Candela beat him to the punch, leaning closer to Volt to whisper the explanation. Her lips brushing against his ear was doubtlessly on purpose, judging from the way she leered when he shivered, his eyes going wide as he stared at her when she moved away.

"Oh." It came out like a squeak. Volt cleared his throat and looked down at the tablet again. "I see... Well, it's not like I'd be able to answer, anyway. Not if I wanted to _live!_ "

"Why's that?" Spark asked, tilting his head. 

"Well, I mean, killing's illegal to begin with," Volt explained, waving a hand toward him, "And I can't do the other two with you at all because, oh boy, would that mean _trouble!_ " His lips twitched, a mischievous look to his eyes, but his expression remained (for the most part) earnest.

Spark hid his own ironic grin behind his fist as he coughed. "Yeah, true enough, cousin."

"Well, that still leaves Blanche and myself," Candela said, propping her arm up on the table and resting her chin in her palm so she could look at him, "Even Rocket, if they suit your fancy."

"Hey, the question said he had to choose from you three - leave me the hell out of this!"

"Yeah, adding them would make things more complicated," Spark said.

"Don't they always?" Blanche mumbled. 

Volt frowned slightly, glancing their way, then continued, "But they'd probably factor into my choices, anyway."

"Really?" Candela said, her brows rising almost as high as Noire's. "And why is that, darling? Because they don't know how to keep their grubby little hands to themselves?" Her words gained a biting undertone, her smile pointed when the Rocket COO sent her an absolutely filthy glare.

"Explain myself, shall I?" Volt said, grinning when she waved him on, "Well, suffice to say I'd be honored to sleep with or marry you, Candela."

"Aw, well aren't you sweet!"

"Thanks! Now, if I did any of those with Blanche, Noire would get angry and Candela might burn my house down. And if I did any of those with Noire, especially the _killing_ , Blanche would cry," Volt said, shaking his head, "And any person that can make Blanche cry is a _monster_."

"I can make them cry," Noire said with no small amount of smugness. "It's _easy_." Blanche scowled, Candela simmering beside them.

"Yeah, but you love them too much to do it without a good reason," Volt replied, bringing out a black cellphone phone and swiping through it, "Why else would you have an entire folder devoted to their Instagram selfies?" He turned the screen toward them, his lips twitching into an amused smirk when their eyes widened and they furiously pawed at their pockets in disbelief.

"How the fuck?!" they exploded, all but crawling over Spark to try and snatch what was apparently their phone out of his hand. The Instinct team leader looked mighty pleased at his new view, hands politely up but fingers twitching with the temptation to pull them fully into his lap. "Give me back me phone, you asshole!"

Volt jerked away from them, the phone disappearing in a blur of his hands. He held them up passively when Noire managed to snag his collar, grinning when they drew him closer to threateningly bite out, "Give. It. To. Me."

"I don't have it!" he said, pointing further down the table, "Blanche does!"

"Bullshit!"

"I'm serious!" he insisted, glancing over his shoulder at them, "Mind checking your pocket, Blanche?"

"I don't see how that could benefit you," they said drolly, reaching down to comply regardless, "There's no way-" The Mystic leader cut themselves off, eyes wide as they pulled the black phone up into view.

Silence descended. 

" _How?_ " Spark whispered, mystified as he peered around Noire to stare at the device.

"A magician never reveals his secrets!" Volt said, winking at him. Then he clapped loudly, the others flinching at the noise. "Wow, would you look at the time!"

The announcer, previously forgotten, shook himself and checked the red time counter at the front of the stage. He quickly returned to the stage and said in a booming voice, "Well, it seems that that's all we have for this evening! Thanks again to our wonderful panelists for that... _entertaining_ discussion. We hope you'll join us again real soon. As always, stay shining Opal City, and have a wonderful night!"

-/-

"You saw that, right?"

Carl looked up to see Amelie lean against the wall next to him. Her eye was fixed on the group of leaders that were chatting a few meters away. Go and Annie hovered nearby, speaking softly to one another and reviewing the public response that was already pouring in about the panel. "Saw what, Miss Amelie?"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me," she said, looking down at him, "I _know_ you noticed that this interview went along far too smoothly."

"Did it? I was certain that was the half bottle of bourbon I drank before coming here."

" _Carl_."

He sighed, offering her a smile. "Very well. Yes, I found it a bit odd that it somehow didn't come to blows with both of our bosses in the same vicinity."

"Three guesses as to why that might be," Amelie said, glancing back at the five grouped together on stage. In particular, the one in the center with a sunny grin and mischievous blue eyes. "And the first two don't count."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only regret is that I couldn't include more memes and references.
> 
> Candela's dress [[x](http://nafdress.com/assests/images/red-and-gold-party-dresses.jpg)], Blanche's pantsuit [[x](http://hbz.h-cdn.co/assets/cm/15/04/54bf106732dc2_-_pantssuits-0910-07-de.jpg)], Noire and Spark's outfits [[x](http://www.surfacage.net/post/152689983074/noire-i-dont-get-it-amelie-its-better-that-way)], Volt's aesthetic mistake [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpI80PdXhbs)].


	7. Chapter 7

Volt shifted in place. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course, darling!" Candela replied, her smile bright, "They absolutely _adore_ it when Spark and I do it!"

He pursed his lips, weighing her words in his mind, then nodded with a quick jerk of his head. She watched him turn on his heel and walk away, the giddy sense of playfulness bubbling in her stomach forcing her to clear her throat to avoid needing to laugh.

The world around her was wonderland of white. Normally she'd be about five minutes away from stripping off her winter ensemble to roll around in the snow and hopefully cool down, but yesterday had been a particularly active day for her tenured mental roommate and coming down from such a flaming high always left her a bit chilled. Comparatively, of course. She still managed to run hotter than most people.

Candela sighed happily, her breath coming out like a small cloud. As much as she enjoyed her work, it was certainly nice to have a day off every now and again. Especially when she would be surrounded by very attractive people in a very cramped, very dark space...

Honestly, going to see a movie had never seemed like such an exciting outing before.

“Hey!” a voice called out and she turned to see Spark trotting up to her, carefully balancing four cups of warm apple cider in his arms he’d gone to buy from a vendor. A few bags of roasted pecans stuck out of his jacket pockets, too, and she smiled at the sight.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied, taking two of the cups. He shot her a thankful grin then glanced around.

“Where’d Blanche and Volt run off to?”

“Oh, you know Blanche. A couple of baby Mystics came up to them, begging for an evaluation, and they caved _so fast_ ,” she said, hiding a smile in her cup as Spark snickered, “They then proceeded to be dragged off to see a snowman the kids had built.”

“Aww, cute,” Spark commented, sipping his own cider before quirking a brow, “What about Volt? You didn’t eat him while I was gone, did you?”

Candela laughed. “No, not quite. He’s being initiated.”

“... Initiated?”

She motioned with her cup to the view in front of them. The park was comprised of several open fields and a few small ponds, but most of the paths were surrounded by a decent lining of trees. Even still, sometimes the line broke and one could see across the grounds.

Where they were standing, they had an excellent view of Volt creeping up behind Blanche, a huge snowball held over his head.

“Oh, you’re _mean_ ,” he said under his breath, amused, grinning when she winked at him.

The kids rightfully scattered as his doppelganger brought his cargo down on the icy Team Mystic leader’s head. They whipped around immediately, snow sliding down their face and sticking to their hair. Volt’s laugh abruptly cut off and he took a few steps back from the force of their glare.

Spark snorted then raised his voice, “Run, Volt, _RUN!_ ”

He and Candela shared a laugh as the other two sprinted across the field, Volt being pelted with perfect precision yet somehow managing to toss back a few of his own haphazard snowballs. Blanche was able to dodge most of them, of course, though their briefly-startled expression when one managed to hit them was a sight to behold even from a distance.

Candela cradled the extra apple cider she was holding in the crook of one arm as she idly reached into Spark’s pocket and stole one of the bags of pecans. She popped a few of the roasted nuts into her mouth and shrugged nonchalantly when he directed an offended pout at her, knowing it was completely fabricated. You couldn’t exist like they did and still maintain a sense of personal boundaries.

Speaking of boundaries…

“How are things going between you two, by the way?” she asked, smiling when he tilted his head at her curiously, “You and Volt.”

Spark lit up like a house on fire and she had to blink at the sudden intensity of his grin. “Oh, things are great! It’s like I’m living with my best friend only _better!_ ”

“I can imagine.”

“I’m serious, Candy. I mean, I’ve had roommates before, but Volt’s like-” he waved a hand, an agitated, excited motion that almost sent half his cider sloshing to the ground, “You know? We sync perfectly. Yeah, there are a couple of differences - like, he listens to pop a little more than me because he’s done this experiment where he played different types of music to see if it affects hatch rates and that shit _actually helped_ \- but all in all it’s a pretty sweet deal!”

“Aw, does he bring you breakfast in bed, too?” she teased, brows rising when he nodded.

“Sometimes! We take turns because we both like cooking, but doing it for somebody else really adds a layer of fun.” He paused to groan. “Though, I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

“Oh ho? Trouble in paradise?”

“Trouble in my closet, more like it! I might need to up the intensity of my workouts.”

Candela laughed, swallowing back the initial bitter jealousy that had flared at his description of blissful domesticity. She wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing, not really, not right now when she was at the top of her game - at least, that’s what she told herself.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine with how both of you seem to enjoy running your legs off for your eggs.”

“You think so? It’s really nice to have someone that can keep pace. Go tries, but, yanno,” he said, shrugging and taking a sip from the cup that had been meant for his lookalike before continuing, “It’s why we ran the city-wide marathon last weekend!”

Candela perked up at that, her smile growing to be more genuine. “I heard about that! You both finished just over three hours, right? That’s pretty impressive for a forty kilometer marathon.”

“Thanks! It would’ve taken less time, but we had to stop and ball the babies to transfer them to the Sanctuary.”

“Wait,” Candela said, furrowing her brows, “Are you telling me you stopped _in the middle of the road_ during a marathon to coax hatchlings into Pokeballs?”

“Yes, because we’re _completely_ stupid,” Spark said, rolling his eyes, “We hopped off to the side and took turns soothing and capturing. Took maybe ten minutes each stop, tops.”

“Each stop? There was more than one?”

Spark blinked. “Uh, yeah? We each had nine ten-kilometer eggs to start with. Then, when those hatched, we got nine more a piece. Wash, rinse, repeat. I think we clocked in at seventy-two total between the two of us?”

Candela let out a low, impressed whistle. That level of dedication was pretty stellar. “Nice! Though, _please_ tell me you remembered to cool down and stretch afterwards?”

"Duh! And then we-" Spark cut himself off, jerking his head to stare off into the distance, his body tense and still.

"Spark?"

"Something's wrong." His voice was low, dark and thunderous, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Candela swallowed when she caught a glimpse of his eyes glowing a poisonous yellow.

Before she could respond Spark took off, sprinting toward the small cluster of trees on a hill in the field in front of them. She stayed on his heels as best she could, distantly registering the fact they were bad people and had literally dropped their cups on the ground. Off the path, she could sense that the world had fallen quiet around them - barring the crunch of snow under their feet - and that Volt and Blanche were nowhere to be seen.

The temperature dropped a good twenty degrees the closer they got to the copse of trees and she had a bad feeling she knew why.

That bad feeling intensified when she saw what awaited them.

Blanche stood in the center, hair unbound and fluttering in the small snowstorm that billowed around them. Their eyes shone a vivid blue, lips pulled back into a faint snarl as ice formed up along one cheek. They- no, _it_ glared up at Volt, who it was holding up one-handed by his neck, his feet barely brushing the snow-covered ground despite their height difference. His hands were on Blanche’s wrist, not quite clawing, but she worried he might already be too weak to do even that much.

Spark wasted no time observing as she had done. He ran toward the two and swung at the Titan, who dropped Volt in an undignified heap and attempted to avoid the blow only to be clipped on the hip. It staggered back with a pained hiss, dropping to one knee and curling slightly over its doubtlessly numb or at least tingling leg.

Candela rushed over to Volt, crouching over him protectively. She worried the other two would actually have a go at each other - and this far into the city, it could be dangerous for civilians. What was worse, she couldn’t be sure who would be the victor as electricity wasn’t as effective against ice as her own flames were (in fact, she was almost certain they were weak to one another). That said, Spark would have an advantage by the simple fact he and his Titan had been bound longer.

She scowled when she reached for Moltres, trying to beckon the Titan forward, but it ignored her and seemed content to simply watch the proceedings through her eyes. This was another problem that arose after one of their Moltres Days, and it was honestly more annoying than upsetting. Not that her body could handle another round with the fire bird taking over so soon, of course.

But if Team Rocket ever found out about her down time...

“What’s your problem?” Spark snapped, voice compounding through his and Zapdos’ combined ire.

It rose unsteadily, favoring the side that had been struck with eyes still an icy blue, and glared at the three of them. “ _He_ is my problem,” it replied, jerking Blanche’s chin toward Volt, “A distraction that needs eliminating.”

“I’ll tell you what needs _eliminating-_ ”

"He does not belong here," the Ice Titan cut in, pulling Blanche's lips up into a sneer as it glared at Spark, "He needs to be destroyed lest the harmony be disrupted!"

"That is not for _you_ to decide!"

It scowled at him. “You cannot hope to protect them both, Zapdos. It is too much, even for you. Yet again you are blinded by your _humanity_.” It punctuated the statement with a scoff, spitting the word like a curse.

"Please," Volt coughed, eyes wet with pained tears, struggling to sit up even as Candela tried to shush him and keep him still. He had a hand over his wounded neck. "Don't- Don’t fight."

The two Titans shifted to look at him, Spark’s face shifting from incensed to concerned while Blanche’s expression faltered. The blue light in their eyes flickered then faded and they staggered a bit, breathing out a harsh breath as Articuno released its hold. The oppressive atmosphere also dissipated, the air warming ever so slightly from nightmarishly cold to a normal winter chill.

“Volt, I-” Blanche began, face broken with regret as they reached out and took one step toward him. Spark moved to stand between them, fists still clenched as he glared at them. Their face fell and they swallowed harshly, arm dropping to hang limply at their side. Something passed between the two of them, something that resulted in Blanche ducking their head and turning on their heel, walking swiftly out of the trees and disappearing from sight.

Candela watched them go, heart seizing in her chest.

“Blan-” Volt tried, voice cracking and forcing him into several brutal coughs. Spark was at his side instantly, helping Candela sit him up, worried blue eyes looking him over.

“Shhh, settle down. Let me see,” she soothed, gently prying his hand away from his neck. Volt hissed, breath light and strained. The place where Blan- where _Articuno_ had held him was red and white, though when she touched the white areas they rubbed off as simple frost and revealed more red skin - purpled by bruises, of course.

“How bad is it, Doc?” Volt managed, his voice clearer but still barely a whisper. He tried to smile at her. “Do we need to amputate?”

Candela huffed and ruffled his hair, adrenaline still rushing through her veins, too relieved to find the quip in any way funny. “No, I think you’ll be fine. It’s frostnipped, at worst - though, you might look like a little kinkster for a while,” she said, motioning to the bruising that was definitely in the form of a hand.

The three of them stood, Volt wobbling slightly and leaning against Spark, who, in turn, put a hand on his waist. He stared after where Blanche had disappeared, lips turned down into a frown. “Someone should go after them to make sure they’re okay.”

“They’re fine,” Spark said quickly, also frowning (though likely for other reasons), “ _They’re_ not the one that has an icy neck.”

“But still...”

“Volt, darling, it’s alright,” Candela said, wiping at his face with her gloved hand. She paused for a moment, trying to not let her bitterness show when she continued, “They’ll want to be alone after this.”

“What they _want_ and what they _need_ aren’t always the same thing,” Volt said softly, a sad, knowing look to his eyes when he looked at her. “Please, Candela. For me?”

She frowned, knowing she was being played. Spark knew it too, apparently, from the way he quirked a brow and looked at Volt in disbelief. But Volt only had eyes for her and she was annoyed to find that his pathetic blue stare was working.

“You got him, Spark?” she asked, glancing at him.

“Always,” he replied, tightening his hold on Volt’s waist.

She took a step closer, untying her red cashmere scarf and looping it around Volt’s neck. It wasn’t much, but at least it would help warm his skin and keep people from staring too much. He jumped, startled, but smiled at her in appreciation. “Thanks, Candela,” he said, voice still raspy but undoubtedly fond.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she grumbled, patting the scarf before giving him a half-hearted glare and poking him in the chest, “If I become a popsicle, it’s your fault!”

“But you’d be such a _pretty_ popsicle!” He yelped when she smacked him, clinging to Spark when he began coughing immediately after. Spark pounded on his back a few times, sparing her an amused glance.

Candela turned on her heel and stomped off, head lifted smugly. While she didn’t particularly look forward to the idea of trying to poke the isolationist leader of Team Mystic, and definitely was reluctant to leave those two alone in the park after something like this, she was grateful Volt had given her an excuse. Maybe if she used that as justification Blanche could be guilted into letting her near them.

She moved with grim, graceful determination - but even that wasn’t enough to keep her from almost tripping when she heard the two men begin speaking to each other behind her:

“Dude, did you just _sniff_ her _scarf?_ ”

“What? It smells nice.”

“Of course it does - it’s _Candela’s_.”

\---

“I don’t know, Go. I just think the money could be better used in other areas.”

“You’re only saying that because you want to make a new addition the to ground floor and turn it into a karaoke bar.”

“Hey, in my defense, it would make the Jigglypuffs that much easier to corral!”

“That’s-”

“You know, he’s got a point.”

Go glared down at where Volt was sitting on the floor, frowning at him in annoyance. “I could do without the commentary from the peanut gallery, thanks. Especially the _sickly_ peanut gallery.”

The other man sniffled in reply, leaning harder on Spark’s legs and pouting. Spark reached down to run a hand through his hair, making him hum happily, his bleary blue eyes sliding shut with contentment. In his lap sat a small egg, cradled gently by both of his hands and half-covered by the blanket that was draped across his shoulders. He’d apparently been trying to hatch it for a few days, but hadn’t been successful just yet.

“You sure you wouldn’t be more comfy in bed, buddy?” Spark asked, playing with the soft brown-blond strands that flopped over onto his knee.

Volt made a small affirmative noise, eyes reopening slightly as he smiled. “I wanna be where the people are,” he said drowsily, glancing at the papers piled high on the table, “This feels nostalgic, anyway. It’s nice.” The smile on his lips twitched, fading slightly, before returning back to its original sleepy contentedness.

Go frowned but chose not to comment on it. He sighed, dropping the agenda they’d been going back and forth over for the last half hour into the pile of TBD documents that had barely shrunk in countless _hours_ he’d been in Spark’s apartment. It was depressing, but to be expected.

He knew, of course, about what had happened in the park - and even if he hadn’t been aware, the ring of bruising around Volt’s neck would’ve tipped him off immediately. It was an ugly thing, worse now that it was healing, the colors shifting from the deep purple and mauve into sickly grey, green, and yellow splotches on and under his skin. That he’d gotten a cold soon after only compounded Spark’s fussy, brooding nature and made him skip work altogether to tend to his doppelganger.

Not that Spark showed up to work very often, anyway, but Go had been getting used to the routine Volt working at the Sanctuary had provided. Since the other blond was free to actually work with eggs and didn’t have to play the part of Team Leader on top of it, he was more enthusiastic about actually coming in - which, in turn, translated into Spark at least being in the building most days of the week so Go could track him down.

They orbited each other - fully capable of existing on their own, of course, but finding some measure of basic contentment together that made them want to keep the other close.

Volt jerked suddenly and looked down, staring at the egg in his lap with bright eyes. Spark and Go also peered at it and the moment’s tension spiked. The egg rocked a few times, a few thumps sounding under the shell, then it settled. The blonds sighed in equal parts disappointment and resignation, and Go felt himself do the same.

“Another false alarm,” Spark said, pouting, “It’s _teasing_ us, I swear!”

“Heh, probably,” Volt agreed, gently running his knuckles across the top of the shell, “She’s gonna be great!”

Spark tilted his head. “She?”

Volt nodded. “Yeah, it feels like a girl.” They shared a small, knowing smile and Go was once again left feeling like there was a completely different conversation going on that he was not privy to. It was a common occurrence when those two were together, though. He’d lost track of how many times their combined egg-fact rambles had escalated into terminology and comparisons his brain just couldn’t comprehend.

“That’s an S-Class, right?” Go said, gesturing to the egg, “An abandoned one, too.” He fought the urge to let his pleasure show when the other two nodded. Though he was more of a trainer than a breeder, working with Team Instinct meant you at least had to have a handle on the basics.

Eggs were sectioned off into different classes based on the difficulty of hatching. A through C were the easiest, requiring only an estimated amount of kinetic energy, and were the ones that trainers signed up with the Go Program were given at PokeStops. Cs needed roughly two kilometer, Bs were around 5 kilometers, and As required ten or more kilometers.

There was also a difference between pure-breed eggs and ones found in the wild. Pure-breeds tended to be more finicky, and appearance-wise they resembled the species that would hatch from them. Pure-breed Eevee eggs, for example, were brown with a jagged, creamy stripe around the middle.

The majority of eggs, however, from both breeders and found in the wild, were mixed-breeds and resulted in the infamous pale shell with color-coded splotches.

S-Class eggs, like the one Volt was holding, were eggs that didn’t have the characteristic splotches nor did they resemble any Pokemon native to the region. That it was also apparently abandoned and given to the Sanctuary by a wandering trainer only made it more difficult as they had no clue what type it could be.

As it was, only fully-certified hatchists (breeders specializing in hatching) had clearance for S-Class eggs. That meant that Spark, Volt, and a handful of others employed by Team Instinct were the proud few able to take care of and study them.

A loud gurgle suddenly sounded in the room and shook Go out of his reprieve. He blinked, glancing around quickly before settling on the other two. Spark’s brows were raised, an amused smirk on his lips as Volt flushed and covered his stomach.

“Hungry, buddy?” he asked, grinning cheekily when Volt sent him an embarrassed glare.

Go snorted and checked his watch. “It _is_ about that time in the evening - passed time, actually. When did it get so late?!”

Spark stood and stretched, letting out a groan as his back popped. Volt looked up at him curiously, hair a mess and spikier than he’d seen it in a while, further cementing the idea in Go’s mind that Spark was an unmitigated asshole even to the people he liked.

(That he ‘liked’ Go yet continued to make his life a living hell was irrefutably Exhibit A.)

“Well!” Spark said, clapping his hands together, “I don’t feel like cooking today, so let’s go on a fetch quest for food! How’s Chinese sound?” He smiled when Volt made a noise of agreement and turned to look at Go expectantly.

“No.”

Spark pouted at him.

“No, Spark, I’m not going with you.”

The pout intensified.

“Dammit man, I want to go _home!_ ”

“You could spend the night with us?” Volt offered, tilting his head, “It’s pretty late, like you said, so it might just be better to eat and sleep over here.”

“Can’t we- _you two_ just order in?” Go countered, ignoring the way the other blond’s pleading look was somehow more effective due to his rumpled state. (He did _not_ have maternal instincts, thank you very much, no matter what Spark might believe.)

“Because normal take-out level Chinese isn’t good for a sickly person! Besides, you know all the _good_ places!”

“That’s not a good enough reason t-”

“Not to mention Volt can’t come with me because he’s all sick and gross- sorry, buddy, but you _are!_ ” Spark said, shooting the other man an apologetic look that was shrugged off, “What if I get into trouble? You’re always saying how I have a knack for that sort of thing.”

“You have a knack for it because you have no sense of moral direction! Or any sense of direction, period!”

“Spark’ll pay? And you can get as many peach buns as you want!” Volt chimed in, tugging the egg in his lap closer so he could rest his chin on the top of it and peer up at him innocently. His bangs were mussed, his sweater (an ugly, misshapen thing Go recognized as one of Spark’s first attempts) hanging limply on his form, the collar sinking low enough to display the ring of purple and yellow around his neck.

… Arceus dammit.

“I’ll get my coat.”

-/-

Spark ducked to avoid getting hit on the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Will you quit it?!” Go growled, “You’ve been mumbling ‘egg drop soup’ under your breath since we left the restaurant!”

“But you were so cute when you asked for a bowl of it to go!”

Go raised his fist again but Spark just laughed.

“We asked for _all_ of our stuff to go, idiot, because you got twitchy at the idea of actually having to sit down,” he said, rolling his eyes, “They really didn’t have to, you know. It’s not that type of place.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to leave Volt alone for too long,” Spark said, shrugging, “Anything could happen to him while I’m not there.”

“He’s not gonna die from a cold, you dumb blond,” Go replied, rolling his eyes.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one and I’ve never had to take care of someone that did before now.”

Go gawked at him. “You’ve… Not _ever?!_ ”

“No?” Spark said, tilting his head, “Is that so strange?”

“Not compared to the rest of you, no,” he grumbled, snorting, “Though I guess that finally proves once and for all that Volt’s the smarter of you two.”

The team leader scowled at him, brows knitting in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know, there’s this old saying about idiots and colds. You’re normally so incredibly fast that I figured you’d still be able to catch one, but I guess not.” He had to look away to hide his smug grin when Spark’s expression only got more puzzled. His father had been right. Some things _were_ worth speaking in riddles for.

“Whatever,” Spark said, finally giving up, “My point still stands.”

“You had a point?”

A white plume rose from Spark’s mouth as he hummed, eyes shining thoughtfully from an unreadable face as he looked up at the sky before saying softly, “You never know how long you have with people until they’re gone, yanno?

“Stop being so dramatic. It’s just a cold!” He paused when the other man remained quiet and realized something about the phrasing - about the whole conversation, really - had seemed off. “Spark, it _is_ just a cold, right?”

Silence.

“ _Right?_ ” he pressed, turning to look at Spark and realizing he was walking alone. Go spun around and managed to catch sight of his team leader’s signature jacket dipping into a building on the other side of the street. Cursing, he started toward the shop where Spark had disappeared, brows furrowing when he read ‘Apothecary’ painted on the glass doors before entering.

“Oi, Spark, don’t just-” He flinched when someone shushed him, glancing over to see a disgruntled teenager sitting behind the counter. Scowling, he dipped his head in apology purely from deeply ingrained manner-memory, then looked around.

The shop was deserted, as were most decent places at this time in the evening. Well, most places that weren’t built to handle the night-life crowd but were still open for some reason, anyway. In truth, Go wished he could be out amongst the drunken rabble - but here he was, wasting his youth by playing babysitter for the leader of a prominent team.

Speaking of the overpowered manchild - where the hell was he?!

Aware that the clerk was eyeing his with distrustful apathy, Go stole down one of the aisles on a whim and was immediately assaulted with medication and tonics that screamed nostalgia. He paused, scoffing in disbelief, fingers trailing over the familiar packaging as memories from his childhood momentarily distracted him.

His mom had often made him homemade soup when he was sick - the pungent odor of herbs and spices filling the house and lingering for days afterward. The tea she made him drink (every three hours, like clockwork) had been strong, too, and left a strange flavor on his tongue.

He felt the corners of his mouth turn up as he picked up the brand she’d prefered and looked it over, reading the ingredients list like it made any sort of sense to him. Grandmother had always made it from scratch because it was supposedly better fresh, she’d explained, fingers running gently through his hair, pressing a cool, wet cloth to his forehead, but the herbs were hard to come by in their little town--

“ _Ge Gen Tang?_ What’s that?”

Go nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice, loud with unfiltered curiosity, spoke right next his ear. He whirled around, hands already balling into fists as he glared the blond down.

“There you are!” he snapped, “Weren’t you ever taught not to sneak up on somebody? Or not to wander off by yourself? Or that it’s _incredibly rude_ to walk away when someone is speaking to you?!”

Spark didn’t look the least bit phased.

“I suddenly remembered that we ran out of cold meds this morning,” he said while a lazy shrug, the bag containing their food swinging in his grasp, “I was gonna get some this afternoon, then you showed up and made me work so I forgot.” He paused to run a hand through his hair. “I thought this place might have something but, well, none of the stuff I found here makes any sense to me, so I don’t even know if it would actually help Volt or make him grow, like, another head.”

“And you couldn’t have taken the time to- You know what, nevermind.” Go could feel a headache coming on. “Let’s just go.” He shoved the team leader toward the door, only halt when the teenager called out to them.

“Hey! You guys have to pay for that!”

Go scowled uncomprehendingly at the clerk, who rolled his eyes and pointed to his hand. He looked down and jerked when he realized he was still holding his childhood tea. Taking a step back toward the aisle, he paused when a thought occurred to him and turned toward Spark.

“You said you didn’t find anything, right?” His expression must’ve shown his frustration because the blond nodded mutely. He set the package onto the counter with a weary sigh, grabbing a tin of Persian balm from a nearby display and placing it next to the tea.

The teenager, sensing his mood, wisely remained professional while ringing the two items up and didn’t even bat an eye when he just shoved both things into his pockets after paying.

As they left the apothecary, Spark’s buoyant nature returned. They were able to make it back to the park sector before it finally was too much for him to take. Go sighed (even the steam rising from his lips seeming resigned), regretting asking before he’d even opened his mouth.

“Okay, what now?”

“Hm?” Spark replied, swinging their food cheerily. If Go hadn’t personally made sure all the containers were sealed properly, there was no telling what sort of horrible mischief would be going on inside it.

“You’re bouncing and humming,” Go said, waving a hand at him. Admittedly, Spark being lighthearted wasn’t out of character for him. His moods changed as quickly as the winds, after all, and having him be in a good mood was decidedly better than having him depressed or fussy - and _leagues_ above him being angry.

“So? I’m feeling pretty good.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Spark sighed, a pleased grin on his face, “I get to eat food that’s guaranteed to taste amazing _and_ I know for a fact that I have the _best_ best friend in the whole wide world!”

Go’s face flushed and he snorted, hiding his pleasure with annoyance. “And why is that?”

“Because you care about me,” he replied, eyes glinting gold as his grin became a tad more secretive, a tad more dual-meaning, “ _All_ of me.”

Right. Spark’s electric brain buddy liked word games, too.

The was brief moment of silence in which Go felt his heart stop, and it was only partially from fear. “Oh, get over yourself!” he snapped, lightly shoving his shoulder and scowling when Spark harshly shoved him back then threw an arm across his shoulders.

“Nah, you love me the way I am,” he said with breezy confidence. Then Spark gasped, squeezed Go’s shoulder, and pointed somewhere in front of them. “Oh, oh, oh! Go, look! A shooting star! Make a wish!”

He squinted, following the line of the other man’s arm. “Spark, that’s a helicopter.”

“Oh… Can I still make a wish on it?”

Go just sighed.

-/-

“Hey, buddy, falling asleep on the table probably isn’t a good idea.”

“Mrr?” Volt replied, eyes cracking open. He stared up at the two of the them, mind sluggish, neurons struggling to reconnect. “Oh, hey. You’re back!”  He sat up with a hoarse yawn, rubbing at his face, the blanket falling off his shoulders.

Spark reached down and ran a hand through his hair, voice gentle with amused concern. “If you were that tired, why didn’t you just go to bed?”

“I wanted to be here when you got home.” Sleepy honesty was the most sincere form of honesty, apparently.

“Well, we’re home!”

Volt smiled, though it was strangely victorious with a tinge of what looked like slyness. “I can see that. Did you manage to get food or did you eat it all on the way?” He laughed when Spark’s gentle petting became much more rough, almost a noogie, though his laughter soon turned to a coughing fit that left him slightly winded. Spark pulled him into standing, patting his back and letting him cling to him while he caught his breath.

“Alright, well, on _that_ note,” Go said, frowning slightly, “Your plans this evening just downgraded to eating, bathing, and then sleeping - in a _bed_ , this time.” He crossed his arms when both blonds pouted at him, unmoved by their matching, pitiful expressions.

“But I’m not sick!” Spark complained.

“Then I wasn’t speaking to you!” he replied, digging around in his pocket and pulling out the Persian balm, “Volt, take your shirt off.”

Volt blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly, then glanced at Spark, who shrugged with an equally puzzled expression. “Well,” he said, voice rough as he started to try and pull his monstrosity of a sweater off, wobbling slightly, “I guess you _did_ bring me dinner first.”

Spark snorted and Go felt a blood vessel about to burst.

“You know what? Spark, you do it!” he said, shoving the balm into Spark’s hand and snatching the bag from the restaurant from him before storming off back toward the kitchen, “I’m going to heat up our food - which would’ve been warm if _someone_ hadn’t been a swishy jerk with no impulse control!”

“Don’t forget to brew your _special_ tea, Mother Goresa!” Spark called after him, chortling when he received a rude gesture in return.

Go tried not to slam their food onto the counter, scowling when he heard the other two snickering in the other room. Idiots, the both of them. One of these days he was going to--

He sighed, pulling out the entrees and stuffing all the boxes with food meant to be similar temperatures into the microwave. He moved over to the stove and grabbed Spark’s obnoxiously yellow kettle, taking it over to the sink and filling it before setting it back on a burner. When the microwave went off, he took out the heated food, checked the temperature, and put in the rest.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

Mindless movement and inane tasks were one of the ways he’d found to keep himself sane - at least, when dealing with his team leader.

When the food was done being reheated and the tea steeping, Go moved out back to the living room the get the other two to come eat. He paused, glancing around with confusion when he found the room empty. “Guys?”

No answer.

He was about to move toward Spark’s bedroom when something about the coffee table caught his eye. It took him a minute to realize what it was: the table was a mess.

When he and Spark had headed out, the papers had been stacked in a few, if a bit unsteady, piles. Now the papers were strewn about, haphazard and scattered in a way that made Go’s fingers twitch with the urge to throttle whoever had done the immoral act of messing them up.

With an annoyed huff, Go took the necessary detour toward the table, grabbing up the papers and glancing them over, looking for signatures and comments to tell him what had been approved. These forms were just copies he’d made, of course, so that they were free to write over them before finalizing them when Spark eventually actually came back to work.

What he got, however, was a different pile combination than what he remembered. What took his confusion to the next level were the different comments he didn’t remember having before. That is, until he saw the new color printed on a few of the pages. Go had written in black ink, Spark in a honey-tinted pen… and someone else had used a gold glitter gellpen.

 _Volt_.

He scowled, shuffling though a few different agendas and reading a couple over. Most were just reactions to something one or the other had written, a few badly-drawn doodles of Pikachu in the margins appearing here and there, yet some were fairly decent suggestions. There were a few that made absolutely no sense, of course, like the one about making a floating bubble biome for aquatic Pokemon (what) so they could understand what it felt like to be a Flying type for ‘cultural enrichment purposes’ ( _what_ ).

One agenda in particular had the strangest comment, however.

It was a proposal for an event to be held in one of Team Valor’s more permanent gyms, a charity tournament that would have no impact on the city’s three teams’ rankings so all the proceeds could go to the organization. Apparently it would be televised and livestreamed, too. The glitter pen had been used to circle the tournament’s date - almost a month from now - the word _‘deadline’_ scrawled underneath it and underlined three times.

Go scowled in confusion, a strange, uneasy feeling settling in his stomach the longer he looked at it, but ultimately decided against investigating further.

He quirked a brow at a few extra sheets that had also somehow managed to get into their work pile, like a Go Program Trainer application and a Shiny Pokemon Registration form - both of which were only half-filled and had a small stain of what was probably drool on them. He grimaced and very carefully set those two off to the side before straightening and finally heading toward the bedroom.

The door was open, honeyed light from a side lamp pouring out. Go peered in, his greeting dying on his lips at what he saw.

Volt sat shirtless on the bed, his chest glossy and legs hanging over the side, the faint scent of herbs tinging the air. Spark stood hunched over him, their foreheads touching with their eyes closed. His gloves were off, one hand gently cradling Volt’s face, the other pressed against his chest - over his heart. Volt own hands mirrored his doppelganger’s, one gently touching Spark’s cheek and the other tangling its fingers in his orange shirt. The side lamp’s lighting cast dark shadows on their bodies, fuzzy in places and sharp in others.

The moment reeked of intimacy and for some reason, Spark’s words from earlier in the evening came back: “ _You never know how long you have with people until they’re gone._ ”

Go swallowed and beat a quiet, hasty retreat.

How many people had his team leader lived to see be lost to him? In truth, he was just a lonely boy that learned to trust his instincts about people because there was no one else out there to look after him. He clung to those few he called friends, desperate and at times obnoxious, the harsh sting of loss forever on his mind. He and Volt were as close as two people could be - closer than friends, than lovers, than even twins.

It was little wonder that something as trivial as a cold could have him in fits.

He walked back to the kitchen, stewing over watch he’d seen and the feelings it stirred up within him. Pity, empathy, confusion, loyalty. When he arrived at his destination, however, he was confronted with the sight of a very small, very guilty Cleffa staring at him from her perch on the island with one of his peach buns clutched in her paws.

Several things occurred to him in that moment - the fact that Volt hadn’t had his egg when they got home, his sly but victorious grin, the half-filled Shiny Pokemon Registration form hidden amongst their papers.

Go opened his mouth, inhaling as he raised a finger, then closed it with a sigh as he let his arm fall limp at his side. “You know what?” he said wearily, moving further into the kitchen so he could lean against the island. “You keep it. I don’t even mind.”

She eyed him warily, hunching slightly when he ran a hand through his hair before reaching into the bag and pulling out his own bun. He couldn’t even bring himself to be surprised that she wasn’t running away like most of her species did around strangers, much less about the fact her ears were a vivid green rather than the typical brown.

A shiny prevolution from an S-Class abandoned egg. Of course.

As if the other lab technicians weren’t half-in love with Volt already.

He sighed, nibbling on his bun. The Cleffa took that as her cue to start on her own treat, letting out a pleased little trill at the taste, her ears wiggling. Go studied her out of the corner of his eye. She was a little on the small side, if he was remembering the charts correctly, though a bit chubbier, too. Her star-shaped form seemed a little rounder with her puffy tummy, and with her ears being the color they were, she almost looked like a-

“Peach.” The Cleffa stopped eating, looking at him curiously. Go blinked, waving his hand around, searching for an explanation that was less insulting. Unable to find one, he sighed and decided to go with honesty. “You look like a peach. You’re round and soft and fuzzy like one and your ears are green like leaves. The buns we’re eating are supposed to look like them.”

The Cleffa let out a little noise, looking down at her treat curiously. Go smiled. “Yeah, it’s not a _perfect_ likeness, but-” He cut himself off when the little Pokemon pointed at the bun, then to herself, chittering the whole while.

“What, you don’t like the comparison?” he asked, honestly feeling a bit silly for talking to a baby Pokemon, but knowing he’d feel worse if he’d insulted it, too, “I’ll admit it’s not the most flattering one, but you have to agree it’s kind of apt.”

She chirped at him again, pointing with more emphasis, and he finally understood.

“Oh, you want that to be your name? Did Volt not give you one?” She shook her head. “Then… Sure. Peach it is.”

He leaned back slightly, content to watch Peach happily start back on her bun, before the gravity of what he’d done finally caught up with him - that he’d just named a Pokemon that was incredibly rare on a normal day even without being a shiny variation... after his _food_. Go groaned, dropping his bun onto the counter and burying his head in his arms.

It was official: he had been hanging out with Spark ( _both_ versions of him) for _far too long_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No betas this chapter we die like men.

_The sunset was most beautiful when viewed from the top of something very tall and very shiny. Hence why it was very happily sitting on the roof of Valor Tower, legs swinging freely as the sun’s dying rays colored the sky. The city almost seemed to glow below it, glittering and blinding, sprawling out into the near distance where the suburbs met the trees or the boardwalk melted along the shore and it found that to be a pleasing sight as well._

_Opal City truly lived up to the name._

_A whistle drew its attention, followed quickly by a cheerful ‘ **Pretty bird!** ’. Moltres turned Candela’s head to catch sight of Volt standing next to the door to the stairwell. How he’d managed to clear the security checks up to Candela’s office and then sneak up the stairs to the roof was answered by his outfit - no one would think twice about **Spark** showing up unannounced during one of Candela’s off days, after all._

_“I **am** a pretty bird,” it crooned, eyes alight when the blond took that as his cue to move closer._

_“You are,” Volt agreed, taking his place beside where it was perched on the ledge. It still had to tilt Candela’s head up to stare at him, which it did readily, though he quickly ducked down and leaned against the cement barrier to make the angle less of a strain._

_“The **prettiest** bird,” it pressed, pouting when he snorted._

_“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he drawled, “Articuno’s got its crown and that gorgeous tail, and Zapdos, well, it’s just all sorts of awesome, yanno?” His eyes glittered in the sunlight, crystal blue, grin teasing but ultimately benign._

_Moltres huffed and rolled Candela’s eyes, amusement dulling the offense. “What do you want, little Lostling?”_

_“Lost… ling?”_

_“Yes,” it purred, delighted by his confusion, “‘Zapdos’ Lost Fledgling’ is too long so I shortened it. Do you like it? I came up with it myself, you know.”_

_“Then it doesn’t matter if I like it or not,” Volt said with a scoff, “You’ll use it anyway.”_

_“On that, we agree.” Moltres tilted Candela’s head, blinking slowly at the human beside it. “You still haven’t answered my original question.” Volt’s lips pursed for a moment, confusion knitting his brows, then his expression cleared._

_“Oh! I’m just touching base, is all.”_

_“Touching base?” It was its turn to be confused, apparently. Candela had ideas about other things he could touch, of course, but it brushed those aside… for now. “Whatever for?”_

_“Well, one of you is head-over-tail feathers protective of me and the other one recently tried to turn me into a cautionary tale about poking a sleeping ice Titan.” Volt shrugged, a vague motion, his borrowed leather jacket squeaking slightly. “I figure it’s high time I find out where the last of the local Legendaries stands about me being here.”_

_Moltres hummed, studying Volt out of the corner of Candela’s eyes for a moment. Candela was pleased with the view and the Titan found him nice to look at, as well. There was a slight stirring around him, not quite an echo but more than a shadow, and it recognized the energy as his bond with his own bird, separated as they were._

_It pitied the two of them – well, four of them, currently._

_“To be honest, I don’t really feel one way or the other at the moment.” Volt’s astonished expression made it tilt Candela’s head back and laugh. Laughter was a funny sound when coming from human mouths, loud and expressive when it would normally have sounded much like a caw. “I **know!** I’m shocked too!”_

_“Heh, you said ‘shocked’.” He smothered his smug grin when it glared at him, clearing his throat. “Any reason for that or are you just feeling particularly apathetic?”_

_“Dunno,” it said with a shrug, “Normally I’d be all for stirring the pot, but I really don’t see the need over one single human. To be honest, there’s still a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to side with Zapdos just to rile Articuno up. But it seems like its bonded is doing enough of that on their own so there’s no point. Besides, you’re entertaining.”_

_Now wasn’t **that** an understatement. Moltres liked passionate creatures, just as Articuno preferred clever ones and Zapdos was drawn to those with intuition. Volt was nothing if not enthusiastic, especially in regards to his precious eggs, which was a plus in this situation. Honestly, it would steal him from Zapdos if it had half the chance._

_“Uh, thanks?”_

_Moltres waved him off, scoffing. “Don’t thank me yet, little Lostling. My bonded just prefers this city and the people in it unscorched and I feel like indulging her whim – for now.” It sighed, tilting Candela’s head as it surveyed the skyline. “It’s nice, you know, this place. Even though I positively **itch** from having so many humans in one location and, in particular, around me.”_

_“Not a fan of the metro, I’ll take it,” Volt said, lips twitching at the look it sent him._

_“No, not a fan,” it agreed, sniffing prissily._

_Volt just chuckled at that, trailing off into a fond sigh as he turned his attention to the sunset. The Titan considered him. Ah, yes, a slightly off-kilter emotion stirred within it, resonating with the strings that surrounded him that it could almost make out if it squinted. It sensed a mirror life, as whole and brilliant as the sun. An echo rang in its soul, brief and dull, and it resisted the urge to shiver._

_No wonder Articuno had been so fussy lately - it was immensely disconcerting to reach out and hear your own heartbeat, to feel your own flames and ice and lightning reflecting back, distant and disjointed as they were. In all its many years, the Titan had never been afforded the chance that Volt represented, and though it was definitely an avian Pokemon, its curiosity could be downright feline._

_Oh, yes, Volt was indeed increasingly **entertaining**._

_A stray thought passed through Candela’s mind, eager enough that Moltres halted its own ruminations to take notice. It was growing weary and the human was chomping at the bit to take her body back over and begin the process of preparing for the physical fallout from all the fun the Titan had managed to have. “Lostling,” it said, smiling when Volt tilted his head curiously in its direction, “My bonded has a request for you.”_

_“A request? From Candela?” he said, voice high with surprise. He frowned, lips pursing into a pout as he pinned the Titan with a pointed stare. “It’s more of a demand, isn’t it?”_

_Moltres scoffed, amused by Candela’s indignance. “Well, yes, but I assure you that it was politely-worded.”_

_“Then I will hear it!” Volt proclaimed with jovial magnanimity, a large grin splitting his lips._

-/-

“Ma’am, may I take your plate?”

“Hm? Oh, yes! Please do!”

Candela shook herself out of the memory, smiling brightly up at the waiter as he took their plates and brought out the slices of cake they’d ordered in advance – chocolate fudge for her and tiramisu for her guest. Her eyes drifted back to the man across from her, lifting her chin when she caught him staring. “Can I help you?” she teased, lips twitching when he smiled at her readily.

“You’re radiant.” Volt offered in reply, nodding to the waiter in appreciation when he set down the coffee cup in front of him.

Candela scoffed. “You’ve used that one already.”

“Divine, then?”

“That, too.”

Volt sat back with a huff, pouting. “Well, damn. I’m running out of adjectives.”

“There’s always other languages,” Candela offered, stealing a bite of his cake, “You could try a few of those.”

“Oh, yes, let me just reach into the bag of all the languages I know,” he said, pantomiming reaching into a bag before holding his hand out to her with the palm up, “Ah, that’s right. I don’t _know_ any languages besides English!”

“Sassy,” she said, lips twitching as she bit back a smile, “I thought Spark said you knew _something_.”

“Oh, I know sign language,” he said, “Learned it to make sure I could help out deaf and hard-of-hearing trainers. But that doesn’t really count in this situation because at best all I could do would be this.” He waved in her direction, drawing a few shapes in the air. Candela snorted when she recognized the universal motion for ‘curvy woman’.

Flatterer. Though, to be fair, that _had_ been one of the reasons she wanted to speak with him.

“I could teach you a few things, if you’d like,” she offered, batting her eyelashes at him, “The important ones, at least.” ‘ _Like how to beg_ ’ weighed heavy one her tongue but remained unsaid. The man was turning out to be just as sincerely oblivious as his counterpart when it came to flirting, though that was half the fun at this point. She’d never been one to back down from a challenge, after all.

Volt stared at her blankly. “What, like, how to find the train station or the bathroom?”

“Oh, sure. Those and more,” Candela said, trying not to pout. She leaned forward, gratified when his gaze briefly dipped toward her cleavage before meeting her eyes again with a harsh swallow. She gave him her most sultry smile, taking another slow bite of her cake, letting her tongue flick out to sweep up a smear of chocolate off her bottom lip. “Here’s one: _Bésame, tonto hombre._ ”

“Is, uh, is that French?” Volt asked and Candela resisted the urge to climb over the table and throttle him out of frustration.

“No,” she said dully, taking another bite of her cake to hide her disappointment, “But good for you, noticing that it was a Romantic language.”

“Wait, what?” Volt sat up straight, eyes wide. “Languages have _genres_ now?! Oh, man, what’s a guy gotta do to learn the Horror one – eat bloody nails with a side of the souls of the innocent?” He burst out laughing when her face doubtlessly showed her annoyance, raising both hands in surrender. “Kidding! Just kidding!”

She scoffed. “When are you _not?_ ”

“Hey!” he protested, taking a drink from his coffee cup before taping on his own chest with a finger, “I can be serious you know!”

“Oh really?” Candela didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“When it matters.” Volt leaned forward, tenting his fingers, “For example, I’m interested to know _why_ you wanted to have dinner with just little ol’ me. This is a pretty swanky joint, so I can imagine you only bring people here that you’re trying to impress.” His eyes glittered in the dim restaurant lighting, somehow brighter than any other shade of blue in sight.

She blinked in surprise. “Well, I like you,” she said, waving her fork, “Arceus knows you’ve gone through quite a bit recently, so I wanted to take you somewhere nice and spoil you a bit.”

“So, you’re checking up on me?” Volt said, raising a brow. His stare was far too pointed for her liking and was making her skin positively crawl. She met the gaze, because of course she did, but that didn’t stop it from unnerving her. It was easy to forget just who he was in his own world – save for moments like these.

“Can’t I be concerned for a friend?” she shot back, batting her eyes innocently.

“You can,” he admitted, tilting his head, “But _I’m_ not the friend you’re worried about.”

The statement hung in the air.

Around them, the other patrons continued to talk, the din of numerous conversation and the clatter of silverware on porcelain making a poignant contrast to the sudden silence at their table. Candela lifted her chin, glaring at him. Moltres slithered into awareness in her mind, slippery like smoke that threatened a fire, but she held it back. She sniffed primly, taking a sip of her own coffee before speaking.

“I’m sure I don’t know-”

“Oh, come _on_ , Candy _yeeela!_ ” Volt said, quickly fixing his slip as he threw his hands up. She didn’t know why he made such a fuss about strictly calling her by her full name, but it was obvious he meant it as a way to distinguish between her and… the other her. His ‘Candy’. “Enough with the dancing around already! I’m pretty sure I’ve just made it perfectly clear that shit doesn’t fly with me.”

“Well _excuse me_ for trying to be subtle!” she snapped.

Volt’s stare flattened. “You’re about as subtle as a bus to the face, Candela. I know it, you know it, the entire city knows it.” He paused to reach over to her side of the table, taking one of her hands in his. “And I love that about you – I really do! Your blunt honesty is one of the things that makes me feel, well, the most comfortable.”

Internally, Candela balked slightly at the casual use of ‘love’. They barely knew one another, after all. But she could find no lie in his expression and the irritation lessened, replaced with something akin to awe. Truly earnest people were rare these days, and she often found them as delightful as she did intimidating. Living life with your heart on your sleeve was so incredibly freeing, but nearly impossible to actually achieve.

Not without gathering some scars, that is.

“Really?” she asked, preening due to his sincere praise, “Thanks. Most people find it abrasive.”

“Yeah, well,” he replied, a smile twitching on his lips as he squeezed her hand, “I’m not most people.” And just like that, the tension in the air dissipated.

Candela laughed, squeezing his hand right back. It was jarring how quickly he could go from sizing her up like prey to making her feel like the most special person on the planet – a common feeling for anyone that had been around him _or_ his lookalike long enough. It went without saying that Spark often elicited the same response, though his more intense side tended to linger and leave a much more lasting impression.

“You want my honesty? Fine,” she said, tilting her head. She left their hands clasped, pleased by the feeling of his skin against hers. “I’m interested in myself.”

“I’m assuming there’s a less narcissistic sentiment behind that statement,” Volt said wryly.

“Maybe,” she cooed, “Maybe not. That remains to be seen.”

“Heh, noted,” he said, taking a bite of his tiramisu and humming, “You’re also worried about Blanche, though, right? I’m not wrong in assuming that am I?”

Candela sighed, pouting. “No, you’re not wrong. I find myself increasingly worried over that frosty recluse these days.” She paused to wave her free hand. “They’ve always been this way, though. One slip up, one mistake, and they hide themselves away. They’re their own worst critic.”

Volt nodded, sympathetic. “Yeah, no kidding. That perfectionist streak gets them in trouble in more ways than one. I just wish…” he trailed off, eyes darkening as the corners of his mouth dipped into a frown.

“What?” Candela asked, curious. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” he replied, smile sliding back on his lips as though it had never left, “Lost in thought, is all.”

“Ah, I thought I smelled burning,” she quipped, grinning when he squawked in indignation. “Let’s get back to the topic at hand: _me_.”

Volt’s head tipped back as he laughed, a bright and happy sound. A few of their fellow patrons turned to look at him, but their expressions were mostly curious or amused instead of annoyed. “Oh, right, forgive me. How could we have strayed from such an important thing?”

“Who can say?”

“So,” he said slowly, tilting his head, “What do you want to know?”

“What are you willing to tell me?” she shot back.

“More than can be covered in a single desert,” he replied, stealing a bite of her cake, “But I’ll do my best!”

And he did. She sat quietly, enraptured by his fond recounting of a life spent with a version of herself that she may never see. Watching his face, his gestures, she was struck by a realization that made her heart swell with both warm pride and bitter jealously: Volt _loved_ his Candela. Like, in the truest sense. It was completely self-evident from how he lit up when he spoke about her, proud of her accomplishments as though they were his own.

It was an odd sensation, being envious of herself.

She traded him stories, of course, since it was only fair. The ones that were hers to tell, at least. He listened with extreme focus, eyes glittering in the dim lighting, offering empathy and amusement and awe in reaction to her grand tales. She may have fudged a _few_ of the details, but if Volt noticed he didn’t say anything.

The other tables cleared as they continued to talk. If the waiting staff minded, however, they were too polite to intervene – well, it was either _that_ or they were too intimidated to try and shoo them off.

“All I’m saying is if you threw it all away – all your smoke, and mirrors, and power plays – you wouldn’t lose anyone’s respect.” Volt shook his head, looking at her with a suspiciously pained expression. “Not really. Not from the people that _matter_.”

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. “In a perfect world, you’d be right,” she said, offering him a sad smile, “But in reality, in _this_ world, that’s not possible.”

She’d learned that the hard way. It was fine for Volt and Spark and people like them to be so optimistic – there was something to be said about the value of dreamers – but she operated within the confines of life and society so she could fight harder, pull ahead, and protect what was hers. She just couldn’t afford the luxury of being fanciful when she was constantly being challenged on all sides.

Being a competent realist was safer, steadier, and stronger than being lost in your own head.

She’d leave the analysis to Mystics and the dreaming to the Instincts – Valor was a team built on the burning passion of living your best life and she was its leader for a _reason_.

They both jumped when a phone suddenly rang out. Volt’s eyes widened and he pawed at his pants, a horribly guilty expression appearing on his face as he read the text alert. “Oh, shit, I forgot I was gonna go for a run with Spark this evening.”

“Is he mad?” Candela asked, quirking a brow.

Volt shook his head, finger flicking across his screen. “Nah, he convinced Go to go with him.”

“More like dragged him kicking and screaming.”

“Hm? You say something?” he asked, distracted, thumbs beating out a quick staccato as he typed his reply. His tongue poked out between his lip in concentration and she found herself biting her bottom lip to keep from snorting.

“Nope!” she said, tilting her head, “Do you need to go? I don’t mind.”

Volt looked up at her, startled. “What? We still need to pay-”

Candela waved him off, a sly smile on her lips. “The reservation was in my name, darling, and you were right about me frequenting this place when I’m trying to impress. They have my card on file.”

“Ah, but I can’t just let you-” he protested, pouting when she cut him off by grabbing one of his hands.

“It’s fine, Volt,” she said, grinning as she brushed her lips against his knuckles. It was cute how easily he blushed. “Though, if you ever want to pay me back, I can think of a _few_ things you could do for me...” The blush on his cheeks deepened and she knew the message had been received.

Volt stood, stammering out a thanks for the meal and the conversation. He surprised her by ducking quickly to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel and walking away.

Candela sat back and watched him leave. She picked up her coffee mug and peered down at the brown liquid within, now completely cold, ruminating in her own thoughts. Moltres simmered, clamoring for her to get up and put Volt in his place – well, in her bed, really. The Titan was now officially fond of the man, and while she’d normally rise to occasion, she suddenly found she just didn’t feel like it.

The realization unsettled her.

Had she won or lost today? She hadn’t been able to wrangle out a promise from him about reconciling with Blanche (a loss), but she had found out more about him, his world, and her other self (a win). Perhaps it was a tie, but even that felt wrong. She sighed, glancing at the anxious waiters standing off to one side, lingering on a few with misdirected heat.

Oh, the tall one looked good. Good enough to _eat_.

\---

Their goal was clear, the path straight. Their legs carried them as fast as they could, but the weariness in their bones and pounding behind their eyes made each step seem to cost the same as ten. Time was growing short. If they could just reach-

“Blanche, slow down! I know we’re late but the meeting room isn’t going anywhere!”

They sighed, slowing their pace slightly in resignation.

“I know that, Annie. I want to get a _Crimson Tauros_ before we get there.”

Their assistant gave them a withering look when she caught up with them. “And here I thought you were smart. That’s an energy drink _from hell_ , you know.” She paused in her lecture to adjust the strap of her bag. “Did you even eat something this morning?”

Blanche turned their eyes away from her guiltily, but they could still feel the disapproving look burning itself into the side of their face.

“You can get your drink,” she said finally, huffing when they glanced at her, “But you have to buy something to _eat_ from the vending machine, too.” Blanche shook their head.

“No time. We’re late, as you said, so-”

“Blanche, it’s either chips from the vending machine or me shoving carrots and humus down your throat. Your choice.” Annie rolled her eyes when they grimaced, bringing her arm up to check her watch. “Besides, I already texted the others to let them know we’re a little behind schedule.”

Blanche hummed, pulling their phone out of their bag and flicking the screen on. Candela had sent them no less than five jeering texts about their tardiness and Spark had sent an equal amount complaining about the fact they had a meeting in the first place. Their brows furrowed as they watched a new message from him ping in – ‘ _hey get me & vo-bro sum snax 2_’ – followed by several emojis they dared not waste brain cells trying to comprehend.

Still…

“Volt will also be attending the meeting?” they asked, glancing at their assistant as they slipped their phone back into their pocket.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, Spark asked if it was alright and the general consensus said it was – which you would _know_ if you actually looked at the board’s emails from time to time instead of just forwarding them to _me_ ,” Annie replied, narrowing her eyes at them, “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s fine.” Their words sounded clipped even to their own ears. Blanche huffed, footsteps speeding up slightly as they rounded the corner and caught sight of the vending machines. Honestly, who thought to put them right next to the bathrooms? They would need read up on the statistics for the efficiency of product placement later.

“Really?” she said, tone thick with disbelief as she raised a challenging brow, “Because watching both of you dance around one another these past few weeks would say otherwise.”

The two of them halted into front of the machines, the soft whirl of electronics sounding loud in the otherwise silent hallway. “I do not ‘dance around’ anything or anyone, Annie,” they said, glaring at her.

“Uh huh. Right. Then why can’t you two stand to be in the same room for more than-”

“You know why!” Blanche blinked, jerking back slightly from the surprised look on Annie’s face. They turned to face the vending machines, glaring at their own reflection and trying not to meet their assistant’s eyes. Her expression shifted, concerned in the same way it was crafted to be soothing.

“Blanche, you can’t possibly think he’s _scared_ of you now, right?” she asked, putting a gentle hand on their arm.

They shrugged her off immediately, digging out their card and swiping it in the slot on the machine for drinks. “His afflictions are none of my concern,” they said primly, punching in the required letter and number combo to get their preferred energy drink, “He watches me. Closely. I find it… unnerving. That is all.”

Annie scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “He’s only watching you because _you_ are watching _him!_ ” she shot back, rolling her eyes, “You study Volt like he’s going to be your next experiment or something.”

Blanche hummed but otherwise didn’t comment. They reached down to retrieve their drink from the port, but Annie beat them to it. Scowling, they held out their hand, the demand for her to give it to them dying on their tongue when something in her expression shifted.

“Are you going to tell the others that you moved scientists working on a way to get Volt home to other research?” she asked quietly, eyes dark.

“That,” they said, taking the can from her regardless, “would be ill-advised.”

“Then why did you do it?”

They shrugged, opening their drink with a flick of their fingers. The carbonated hiss split the air, and they eagerly drank to avoid discussing the topic further. They almost sighed at the familiar, almost clinical taste of vitamins and what was fundamentally a disproportionate amount of sugar on their tongue. Perhaps this would be enough to get them through the meeting.

Unfortunately, their assistant wasn’t so easily dissuaded.

“Blanche,” she said, shoving her own card into the snack machine and punching a random combination for a bag of chips, “Why did you take manpower away from that project? You know how important it is!”

“Is it important?” they shot back, taking another drink from their can, “Pray tell, what do _we_ have to gain from such an endeavor?”

“G-Gain? What are you talking about?”

Blanche studied her for a moment, choosing their words carefully. “Tell me, Annie, are we supposed to put one man above the rest of us? Above our missions in life?” They waved a hand but didn’t give her time to reply. “Our job is to research Pokemon and, more importantly, their evolution. It’s what Mystic Laboratories was designed and designated to do – therefore _that_ , to me, takes priority, and anything else would be a waste of time and resources.”

“A waste of time and resources?” Annie echoed, looking dumbstruck, “B-But you promised to help!”

“What I promised was to offer my assistance if it was necessary.” They tilted their head, looking down at the can in their grasp before turning their gaze on the woman beside them. “It has not become necessary so far as I’m concerned.”

She shook herself, scowling as she stood straighter, defiant at their scrutiny. “Even if I agreed with you – which I _don’t!_ – you can’t deny that discovering another world could be beneficial! I mean, look at how well Instinct is running since Volt showed up! Go says Spark has never been invested in the business side of the Sanctuary before, but Volt’s egging him on to try and understand it so he _is_.”

“Yes, well, we all must start somewhere, Annie. That you seem impressed by Spark’s exaggerated effort to comprehend what is ultimately his _job_ should tell you how low-hanging that fruit is.”

“Ugh!” Annie groaned, throwing up her hand before poking them in the chest, her eyes practically shooting sparks. “You’re just mad because he can keep up with you!”

“Oh, please,” they scoffed, “Even if you enjoy Volt’s presence, you flatter him too much-”

“But I’m not wrong!” she said, jutting her chin. “Am I?”

Blanche glared at her. In truth, it irked them how the man was able to predict the trajectory of their research. Just last week he’d listened in on one of their project proposals – notably _not_ dancing around, thank you very much – and had proceeded to list off counterarguments against each of their bullet points. He’d even been able to bring up articles they had previously dismissed and some they had never come across.

“ _Just thought I’d save you the effort,” he’d said, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding their eyes, “B tried something pretty similar and ended up spending six months arms-deep in Muk goop only to come up empty._ ”

“There is no right or wrong, Annie,” they said primly, lifting their chin to meet her eyes calmly, “Merely facts. Volt was privileged to receive a formal education. Spark was not. To compare them is unwise, even if they claim to be the same person, and to compare them to _me_ is even more foolhardy.”

Annie frowned, biting the inside of her cheek but refusing to say more. They could tell their statement was not well-received, but it concerned them little.

“Besides,” Blanche continued, stooping down to grab the chips Annie had selected from the bin, “I don’t see what we could possibly learn from Volt’s world.”

“ _What?_ ”

“You mentioned the potential benefits of discovering a new world,” they said, rising back to their full height and staring at the chip brand dispassionately. Not their favorite, but it would do. They opened it with a deft flick of their fingers, nose twitching at the pungent smell of artificial cheese flavoring. “There is only one person whose research would hold some intrigue, but there is no doubt that I have already out-performed them.”

“You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you,” Annie broke in, jerking back slightly in surprise, “The other Blanche.”

“Naturally.”

She scoffed. “What the hell? They’re _you_ , but you don’t think they match up?”

“We may have similar lives and play similar roles, but we are not the same,” they said, voice dropping coldly, “The differences between Spark and Volt should tell you that much.”

Annie went quiet for a moment and Blanche took the opportunity to actually start eating their snack. The flavor went surprisingly well with their energy drink. No wonder some of the interns swore by the pairing. Somehow, somewhere, they knew that Candela was cringing - though that only served to increase their enjoyment.

“Blanche,” Annie said, jerking them out of their musing, “You don’t feel threatened by Volt’s Blanche, do you?”

“Come again?”

“It’s just,” she said, waving a hand, “If that’s the case, I think I get it. They might be better than you-”

“I can almost guarantee they would _not_.”

“And why is that? Your own ego?!”

Blanche scowled, taking a swing of their drink before speaking. “Simply put, they would not have been challenged enough. Their world is more… stable, I suppose, though even that is a poor descriptor. Less volatile?” They waved their chips in a vague, dismissive motion. “Regardless, it is a proven fact that progress is the child of innovation and adaptation – and we, as a species, will only adapt if there is pressure to do so. Thus, my counterpart likely suffers from a lack of engagement.”

They frowned slightly, fingers twitching around their chips. In truth, they were aware that they were being a bit unfair in their assessment.

“So, wait, you think you’re _better_ than Volt’s Blanche because you’ve had to work harder?” Annie said, her disbelief evident.

“Precisely,” they replied colorlessly. “It’s a pity, really.”

Their assistant ran a hand down her face, letting out a laugh that sounded a little unhinged. “Are those the reasons you won’t help the project to get Volt home? Because he unnerves you and you see no benefit in it?”

Oh, there were multiple reasons, more than the ones they’d already revealed.

Volt acted strangely around them. Goofy and buoyant, he had as little concept of personal space as Spark and seemed keen on invading theirs whenever possible. However, recently (ever since the incident in the park), he would pause, assessing, before he either let his arm or hand fall on their person or refrain from touching them at all and pull away.

Not to mention his eerie ability to pick out their habits. For all he claimed to try and differentiate between them and his own Blanche – the most obvious of course being that he referred to his childhood friend as ‘B’ – it was obvious that he drew heavily on his memories when interacting with them.

However, the most pressing reason they did not care for Volt was what he represented: a world were Noire did not exist. Blanche had to resist the urge to curl in on themselves at just the thought. True, in theory, it made sense. Countless universes, countless lives - there was no denying it was a possibility. To do so would be to deny reality, and that was as foolish as believing that anything could defy simple science.

Yet the man vacationing in their timeline stood as a mocking reminder that those worlds not only existed, but _thrived_. That they, Blanche, could live in a world without their twin and never know they were meant to have one in the first place. A life without Cipher, without trauma, with a family of their own…

(But was Volt’s Blanche truly _them_ or were they _Noire_ , the older of the two and the original Blanche?)

These were the thoughts that had been swirling in their head that afternoon, weeks ago. Articuno had been disjointed since the blond’s arrival, and Blanche’s muddled feelings had proven to be just enough leverage for the Titan to win its momentary freedom. Their ire swelled at his laughing teasing, snow crunching under both of their shoes as they chased him into the trees, and then their hand had flashed out the catch him around the neck.

They shuddered to recall the bird’s frosty anger, but worse still was the true terror it had felt. What had it meant about Volt disrupting the harmony? What was Zapdos protecting him from? They had plied these questions to their Titan several times since, but Articuno had retreated and refused to communicate.

“My reasons are my own, Annie, and for now I’d like to keep them as such,” they said finally, ignoring the look she sent their way, “Suffice to say that if Volt’s ‘B’ is worth my name and title, then they should have no problem finding the solution – with or without my assistance. This will serve a fitting challenge to test their abilities.”

They then turned on their heel and started back toward the meeting room, vilified when she sighed and started to follow.

The trip was spent in a stony silence. Blanche finished their chips, tossing the bag into a bin just on the inside of one of the many offices on the way. The other leaders had already assembled, based on the assistants lining the hallway. Annie wordlessly handed them their briefcase then strode over to Go and Carl, her shoulders tense. They watched her, a twinge of guilt stinging their gut.

No matter, they’d make it up to her later.

Blanche squared their own shoulders and entered the room. Some of the chatter from the other people – heads of departments and other important staff – cut off at the sight of them, though their fellow team leaders seemed as unaffected as ever.

“Hey, you made it! Where’re my snacks?” Spark said cheerily, pouting when they merely scoffed dismissively and took their seat. They almost wished they’d kept their empty chip bag so they could crumple it and toss it at his head.

In truth, they’d completely forgotten his request amid all the tension.

“Glad you could _finally_ join us, darling,” Candela cooed, smile smug as she balanced her chin on her knuckles “We were starting to get worried you got lost somewhere.” Their cold, annoyed glare only seemed to amuse her more.

“Speaking of which,” Spark cut in before they could reply. He glanced around, pout transforming into a genuine frown before his blue eyes landed back on Blanche. “Did you see Volt on your way here?”

“What?” They couldn’t help the way their spine straightened. “Why would I have seen him?”

The Instinct leader shrugged, his suit crinkling with the motion. They were honestly surprised that he’d bothered to dress appropriately for the meeting in the first place. “He went to the bathroom. I figured you might’ve bumped into him since you-” He paused, glancing down when his phone buzzed, expression clouding before becoming significantly more dejected. “Aw, that sucks!”

“What’s wrong?” Candela asked, tilting her head.

“Volt had to run back to the hatchery – something about a new shipment of eggs that the others were having a rough time identifying,” Spark explained, tilting his screen toward her and Blanche both with a sad sigh, “Man, and I was actually looking forward to this!”

“That’s just because you wanted someone to goof off with!” Candela said.

“Well, yeah, duh.”

“A more pressing matter is how you derived all that from this message,” Blanche said, squinting at Spark’s screen, “It is just an egg, a snowflake, a clock, and then ten- no, _eleven_ lightning bolt emojis.”

Spark’s answering smile was a slow one, eyes glinting yellow. “Sorry,” he drawled, “Yellow Squad secret!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be longer, but part of it got chopped off for the next chapter. Look forward to it, okay? <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big shout-out to my sister, [illysum](http://illysum.tumblr.com/), who was my ~~word gremlin~~ beta for this chapter.

When Noire saw the line through the glass door, their first reaction was to stop in their tracks and mentally reevaluate their life. Well, their life in the last thirty minutes since they’d left the office to make the trek to this particular shop whose pastries were heavenly and whose coffee was delightfully dark and fully caffeinated (a completely necessary detail that was the main factor for this entire trip). They sighed, kicked the pavement, and opened the door while muttering curses under their breath that would make a sailor blush.

They inhaled and hummed when the smell of the café hit them. The warmth was a plus, too. Spring was slow to come to Opal City this year – the icy fingers of winter grasping the last few days with cold snaps sharp enough to cut someone in the night, while the temperature rose to don’t-touch-me-you-sweaty-fiends weather during the day.

It was  _obnoxious_.

Noire huffed, digging out their phone and flipping through a few of their apps. Amelie had shot them a reminder that they needed to be back at the office in an hour for a meeting (fuck) and Syric had tried to guilt them into taking it easy for at least a week (dick). As if  _that_  would actually happen. Sure, Spark had tossed them through a window in their last skirmish, but his heart hadn’t really been in the fight. He’d apparently been on his way to meet up with his doppelganger and said as much when he punched them in the face, the asshole.

Rolling their eyes, they closed their texts and opened their photos, scrolling through the recent pics for the ones they’d taken that morning. Their Eevee had been especially cute while they were getting ready – rolled on her back on top of their duvet, paws in the air, a bit of her neck ruff caught on the little sliver of pink hanging out of her mouth.

They didn’t realize anyone else was behind them until their shadow fell over their phone and a voice said, “Aw, that’s so cute!”

Noire instinctively shoved an elbow behind them, eyes wide as they whirled around to aim a punch at the nosey stranger’s face. It was only by sheer reflexive prowess that the dumbass was able to dodge their fist, and Noire belatedly realized they recognized his obnoxiously familiar mug.

“Mornin’ Noire!” Volt said, grunting immediately when they threw another punch into his gut. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“Don’t stand so close, jerkwad,” they growled, “And  _don’t_  read over my shoulder!”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” the blond protested, rubbing his stomach and wincing, “I was gonna say ‘hi’ first, but then I saw that adorable Eevee picture and just  _had_  to comment, yanno?”

“She  _is_  cute,” Noire conceded before scowling, “But that doesn’t absolve you of guilt, asshole!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re short enough that I could- OW! Quit hitting me, you jerk!”

They scoffed, turning away from him and shuffling forward in line. They heard Volt huff behind them, resisting the urge to turn back around and continue punching him just for the sake of having something to do. He likely wouldn’t be able to keep up with them the way Spark did, anyway.

Speaking of that Instinct bastard –

“Where’s your other half?”

“Huh?” Volt replied, blinking when they glared at him over their shoulder, “Oh, you mean Spark?”

“No, I mean the  _other_  moron living with a Tesla coil roosting in his melon.”

“Jerk!” Volt stuck his tongue out but they resisted the urge to do it back at him (barely).

“ _Obviously_ ,” they said primly, stuffing their phone back into their pocket, “So, where is he? Aren’t you two, like, inseparable?”

Volt snickered but shook his head. “Nah, not exactly. I’ll admit we do tend to hang around one another, though, ‘cause we’re buddies.” He paused to shrug. “Spark’s gonna be in a meeting most of today and told me to take a walk around the city so we’d be equally hungry when he got out of it.”

“Ew, day-long meetings are fucking awful.” Noire scowled when he grinned at them, annoyed with how disproportionally pleased he seemed. They cleared their throat and took a few steps forward when the line moved again. “Why aren’t  _you_  at work, dumbass? Don’t you have eggs to polish or some shit?” They raised a brow when he pouted and looked away.

“Go said I had to take at least one day off a week or it would be a ‘violation of human rights’,” he grumbled with air quotes, huffing, “And Spark is actually making me do it because he’s fussier than a nesting Pidgeot! Seriously, he almost doesn’t let me out of bed in the morning because he wants to make sure I’m getting enough shut eye!”

Noire snorted at the mental image. “What an ass.”

“I know, right?” Volt said, moving forward to stand next to them in line when it crept forward again, “He acts like it’s not  _totally his fault_  that I lose sleep some nights.”

“His snoring is atrocious, I’ll give you that,” they agreed.

“That’s…” Volt coughed into his fist, cheeks pinking suddenly. “Not  _exactly_  what I was referencing, Noire.”

They didn’t get a chance to respond because another customer chose that moment to whirl around and shove back through the line, grumbling about it taking too long. She knocked into the two of them, hissing out an annoyed apology but not stopping. Noire almost started after her for her rudeness, but Volt caught their waist and moved them both forward in line.

“Easy,” he said, the heat of his hand lingering even when he removed it from their person, “No need to make her bad day worse.”

“I want to make her fucking  _week_  worse.”

Volt snorted, rolling his eyes. He then tilted his head, studying them with a quirked brow. “Hey,” he said, smiling, “Backtracking a bit, but that Eevee on your phone – was she yours?”

“What’s it to you?” they snapped.

“Oh, nothing really,” he replied with a shrug, “She just looks like a cutie. Wanted to know if she was a pure breed or not.”

Noire frowned then shook their head. “Never actually looked that up. I don’t really give a fuck, either. She’s mine and she’s perfect and anyone that thinks otherwise can shut the fuck up.” They gave him a warning glare. “Why do you ask?”

Volt held up both hands in mock surrender. “Just needed a segue, really.”

“A segue?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, “What I  _really_  wanna know is if you have more pictures of her.”

Noire scoffed, whipping out their phone faster than even they could process. “What do you take me for? A filthy  _casual?!_ ” they said, unlocking their screen and navigating to their favorite folder. They tilted their phone up slightly, showing it to him proudly. “Behold!”

“Holy shit,” Volt breathed, “So  _many!_ ” He looked at them pleadingly, eyes wide and starry. “Can we go through them?”

Some friendships are built on mutual respect and trust, expanding over years and creating a bond of unbreakable loyal intimacy. Others are built on reciprocally enjoying beating the absolute shit out of each other – a love-at-first-punch sort of relationship. But some, a rare wondrous few, are built on cooing at Eevee pictures while waiting in line for coffee.

“Okay, but, realtalk,” Volt said, waving a hand, “Which is better: nose wiggles or toe beans?”

“You  _dick!_ ” Noire snapped, offended, “That’s like asking if I think her tail is cuter than her ears!”

“…Well,  _is_  it?”

“No comment,” they grumbled, tilting up their chin to smirk at him, “Save to say  _all_  of her is fucking adorable.”

“Hey, no argument here, buddy!” Volt replied jovially, chuckling, “I’ve worked with a lot of Eeveelutions in my time an-”

A sharp cough in front of them made him pause, both looking to see a harried-looking barista staring at them with a rueful smile on her lips. “Can I take your order?” she asked tiredly, quirking a brow at them expectantly when they blinked at her dumbly for a moment.

Noire shoved in front of Volt, glancing at the menu board behind her before saying, “Venti caffè Americano, two shots of espresso, hot as you can make it.”

“And I’ll have a Venti chai tea with whip and sugar-free vanilla – also hot, if you can! And put both drinks under ‘Volt’.” Volt added quickly, sliding his card across the counter as he spoke. To her credit, the barista didn’t even bat an eye as she scribbled on both cups and took his card.

Noire glared at him poisonously. “I can pay for my own shit, dumbass.”

“Oh, I know! You just did and  _look_  - you were kind enough to pay for mine, too!” he said, brandishing the card the barista slid back to him before tucking it back into a  _very familiar_  Eevee printed billfold. Noire’s eyes widened and they pawed at their own pockets, remembering how his hand had lingered on their waist after the woman had shoved them earlier, before slugging the blond in the arm.

“And people call  _me_  an asshole!” they hissed, retrieving their wallet while Volt whined and rubbed his arm. “I hope they spit in your shitty tea!”

He rolled his eyes, shrugging and gesturing in mock helplessness. “Yeah, yeah, I’m the  _worst_ ,” he drawled, digging out his own wallet (an offensively yellow thing that took years off Noire’s life on sight), “Here, lemme make it up to you – two double chocolate brownies, please!”

“Don’t act like you know what I want!”

“What  _do_  you want?” Volt asked, raising a brow. The barista looked increasingly put-upon.

Noire glared at him then looked at the display of pastries. True to every other time they’d come here, everything looked absolutely delicious. Especially the brownies.

Dammit.

“Get whatever!” they spat, walking away from the counter to stand in the waiting area.

Volt, thankfully, didn’t say anything as he strolled over to them – though he did stuff their brownies in his pocket and refuse to let them have ‘theirs’ until their drinks were ready. Once Volt’s name was called, they quickly grabbed their cups and headed for the door. Noire sighed happily after their first tentative sip, eagerly anticipating the rush of caffeine that would soon be swimming through their veins.

As they reached the door, however, Volt did something strange. Well,  _stranger_  than he normally would. He opened the door and stuck his head outside, glaring at the sky and down the street warily, mouth pressed into a thin, uneasy line. The clear sky had gained clouds why they were inside, the world tinted in shades of grey.

Noire watched him was a raised brow. “What the _actual_ fuck are you doing, dumbass?”

“Checking for birds.”

“ _Why?_ ” They let the word drag, narrowing their eyes when he didn’t answer immediately.

Volt glanced at them over his shoulder, slowly standing back at his full height and holding the door open for them with a shrug. “It’s nesting season, duh. You can never be too careful!”

Noire walked through the door, barely pausing long enough to let him catch up. “What the hell does nesting season have to do with anything?”

“Oh, right, you don’t really have to deal with it.” Volt chuckled, shaking his head and taking a sip from his cup. He sighed, smiling happily, before continuing, “Fun fact: avian Pokemon tend to flock together when it’s nesting season. It’s in their instincts to have at least a couple of really strong birds to protect the nests so the smaller and/or weaker ones can forage for food. It’s like a pack-mentality type thingy, but for birds.”

“So? What does that have to do with you being a bigger idiot than usual?” they asked snarkily.

“ _So_ ,” he replied with just as much sass, “I just so happen to look, smell, and  _feel_  like one of the biggest birds in the region. They tend to flock me when I least expec-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Noire said, turning slightly to face him as they walked, drink sloshing in their grasp as they gestured, “Are you telling me that Spark gets fucking dive-bombed by overly-friendly fowls every time he leaves the house?”

Volt nodded, unsure how to handle their sudden interest. “The other two leaders are dealing with it, too. I think Carl’s Natus are currently attempting to assimilate Candela into their ranks and, according to Annie, Blanche hasn’t left the labs in  _days_.” He paused when Noire tilted their head back and let out a single bark of what might have once been laughter. It was more of a short-lived cackle, really.

“Holy  _shit!_ ” they snickered, “I am  _never_  letting any of them live this down!”

He snorted, patting them on the shoulder. “Have fun, I guess?”

“Oh, I  _will_.”

Volt shied away from the absolutely  _malicious_  expression their face, lips turned down in concern. The two of them walked in silence for about a block, each simply enjoying their beverages and the surprisingly companionable atmosphere that somehow had sprung up between them. While Noire would normally be more suspicious of  _why_  they were getting along so well with Spark’s doppelganger, they couldn’t really find the energy to be.

The man lived to defy, it seemed, and they really didn’t care one way or the other – it was better than having to hang around that Valor bitch, at any rate.

“So,” Volt said suddenly, “Which part of the city is your favorite?”

“Hrmh?” Noire replied, mouth full of what was probably half of their brownie. They quirked a brow at him, washing the pastry down with their coffee and almost burning their tongue.

“Opal City,” Volt said slowly, gesturing to the metropolis around them, “Which part do you like best?”

“Why, looking for more places to explore? I’m sure Spark would be  _more_  than willing to give you a tour of each and every park.”

“Oh, he already did! They’re all really great!” He paused when they scoffed and rolled their eyes, pouting slightly at their dismissal. “I just like knowing which parts of a place people enjoy most. It says a lot about a person, you know?”

“Well, in that case,” Noire drawled, blowing out a thoughtful breath, “I like the suburbs on the upper east end.”

Volt blinked in surprise, brows raised to his hairline. “Aw, I didn’t take you for the type to dream of a cookie-cutter lifestyle,” he cooed, grinning and bumping their shoulder with his fondly, “Though, I’ll give you that the houses out there are really pretty!”

“Yeah, pretty and owned by people rich enough to be incredibly  _stupid_. They have a bunch of rare and exotic Pokemon fit for stealing since their trainers never think to update their security on time.” They paused to let out short, sardonic laugh and take another bite of their brownie. “Talk about easy money!”

Noire looked over at him, expecting to see disgust but instead seeing…. Well,  _dissatisfaction_.

“That’s…” he said, pouting, “Pretty tame, actually.”

“What, not gonna lecture me about how much of a bad person I am?” they snapped, almost offended.

“Do you want me to?” Volt shot back, raising a brow. He let out a short breath, rolling his shoulders. “Still, I’m kinda disappointed. I expected something more intense.”

“You want to hear about something intense? One time, I shot a Dragonite out of the sky with a  _bazooka_ ,” Noire said tartly, pride wounded by his flippant words. For a person that claimed to be indifferent to the rabble’s opinions, they sure did care what other people thought. Even dumbasses like him.

Volt gaped at them for a moment, obviously dumbfounded, then shook himself out of his stupor with a derisive scoff. “Bull _shit!_ I’ve seen those things take a Gyarados tail to the face and shrug it off like it was nothing!”

Noire tilted their chin up smugly. “Heh, well, the whole story is-- Do you hear that?”

Both of them stopped walking, tilting their heads in unison at the hissing that sounded behind them. When they turned, however, there was a moment of horrified, disbelieving silence as they beheld the wall of rain closing in on them.

“What the fu-” Noire began, Volt jerking them close to him and hauling ass down the street. Their cups made a sad clatter on the cement, though they were both quickly dented in by the torrent of rain. The two of them were only a few feet from a covered bus stop (the blond’s goal, apparently) when the downpour caught up with them, drenching them both so thoroughly in the last few steps they may as well have jumped in a pool. The droplets where the size of pebbles and hit about as hard as them, too.

“Ugh!” Volt whined when they stumbled into the shelter, shaking his head and flinging water everywhere, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up strangely. He reached over to help Noire ring out their twintails, pouting when they slapped his hand away but relenting. “Where’d this storm come from, anyway?”

“I know, right? The water’s warm enough to take a fucking shower!” Noire paused, scowl deepening as they turned to glare at him. “Spark’s full-day meeting. Who’s it with?”

“Huh?” Volt replied, hanging his jacket on the back of the bench with a wet squelch, “Uh, I think he said it was with Candela and Blanche? Why?” He only got a snort in reply, raising a brow at the curses they mumbled under their breath about the three team leaders. Some were definitely not English and likely meant to be twice as offensive, though he was almost impressed with the breadth and depth of their crude vocabulary.

Calling someone a ‘fucking fire-whore of Babylon’ was a funny way to insult them, though.

The two of them stood near the front of the small Plexiglas shack, their jackets making puddles on the ground underneath the bench. They each stared at the rain pensively for a few minutes, Noire glancing at their watch with a soft explicative before turning and digging their phone out of their pocket. Volt watched them curiously, tilting his head as they made a call.

“Hey, Amelie. Yeah, I fucking got caught in it. Come get me – I’m at, uh,” they said, peering through the sheet of rain at the street sign nearest to them. The water was coming down so thickly the words were a blur.

“The corner of Clearwater and 59th,” Volt supplied, smiling when they nodded at him in thanks and relayed the message. He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, the crinkle of something catching his attention and he pulled out his untouched, slightly squished brownie. He held it out to Noire with a jovial shrug, wiggling it enticingly at them when they squinted at it suspiciously and hung up.

Silence descended again for a beat, broken only by the sound of cellophane being ripped open. Noire tore into the brownie happily, unsurprised to find that the pastry tasted better when warm. They tried not to dwell on the fact it had been Volt’s body heat that had warmed it, though.

“You ever watch a storm come in, Noire?” he asked, crossing his arms as the wind began to pick up.

Noire glowered at him dully. “Yeah, just  _now_ , dumbass,” they said, surly as they bit into their new treat.

Volt chuckled then shook his head, water dripping from his sopping wet hair onto his shirt. Like with Noire, all his clothes clung to him, happily leaving very little to the imagination. They weren’t impressed, of course. Not really. “Fair enough, I deserved that!” he said, looking at them curiously for the blush that had somehow cropped up on their cheeks, “I meant if you’d seen it come in, like, from above.”

“What, like flying?”

“Yeah,” he said, sighing, eyes going distant.

“Then no. I’ve never had that big of a death wish.” Noire studied him for a quick moment, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m assuming that you have, though?”

Volt nodded, smiling brightly at them. “Yeah, it was  _amazing!_ ” he said, shuffling closer to them with a badly-concealed shiver when another breeze blew though their flimsy, three-sided shelter. Noire scowled, annoyed by the cold air and glad the man was acting as a buffer for them.

“Do tell,” they said drily, waving their brownie in a vague shape of acquiescence, “I’ve got a couple minutes to spare.”

“Ah, man, I don’t want to bore-”

“Let me rephrase: tell the fucking story or I’m shoving you back out in the rain.”

He chuckled, raising both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Where to begin?” he mused, running a hand through his hair again, tufts flicking up into the sky for a few seconds before slowly deflating back down to plaster themselves against his skull. It’s be cute if it wasn’t so goofy in juxtaposition to the atmosphere.

“I’ve been told the beginning is usually a good place.”

Volt snorted. “Fair point. Right, well, I think I was around 7ish at the time. Maybe 9? I’d just started working with Professor Willow – well, interning during the summer. My payment was lunch and getting to hang out with the Pokemon and watch the eggs.” He paused to shrug, gesturing with his right hand while his left relocated itself to his pocket. “Technically I was a volunteer, I guess. Child labor laws, you know?”

Noire rolled their eyes in reply.

“Regardless, my uncle was just glad to have me out from under his feet and unlikely to get into danger,” he said, chuckling darkly, “Little did he know.”

“Oh ho, this should be good,” Noire intoned, crumpling the empty brownie wrapper and chucking it in a trashcan conveniently located in the bus stop. Volt’s answering smile was illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning. The sky had continued to darken around them, thunder sounding and bouncing around strangely thanks to the urban landscape. His sunny expression faltered for a moment, rubbing at his chest absently and watching the sky while the Plexiglas around them rattled ominously.

In all honesty, the whole situation made Noire a little uneasy – flashbacks to less-than-pleasant encounters with Spark’s tenured mental roommate flickering through their mind. As if  _any_  of their meetings with  _any_  of the birds were pleasant! Even still, Zapdos tended to leave more of an impression than the other two… in more ways than one.

“Yeah, I kind of had a knack for getting myself into sticky situations,” Volt admitted, and they were almost thankful for the distraction.

“That’s changed?”

“Well, I mean, no, not really. But-” He swatted them on the arm, pouting. “Don’t sass the storyteller! It’s  _rude!_ ”

“I’ll sass whoever I want, asshole!” Noire shot back, chopping his ribs hard enough to make him wheeze and curl slightly. “I don’t take orders from  _peons_  like you.” They punctuated the statement with a prim sniff, tossing their head with smug authority.

“Noted,” Volt rasped, wincing as he rubbed his side. He sniffed, then continued, “Anyway, back to my misadventure in the sky. See, I’d heard there was gonna be a fantastic storm coming in. Like, huge! People were being told to stay indoors and businesses were closing up for the day – a few even put some boards up to protect their glass windows.”

He inhaled, looking back out at the rain when a brave (foolish) soul darted in front of them and splashed down the street. “Uncle Surge was out of town so the Prof was taking care me. I wanted to go out and watch the storm come in, but he was adamant that we go down to the basement with all the Pokemon. Their instincts were telling them to get low and ride out the storm and he figured we should probably take a note and do the same.”

“But you didn’t?” Noire said, surprised.

“I know! Me, ignoring my instincts?” Volt laughed, shaking his head. “But, yeah, no, I yoinked a Charizard and convinced her to fly me above the clouds. Well, uh, more like begged and flattered and kind of challenged her to do it. Brilliance had an ego the size of a mountain, lemme tell you!”

“Sounds like my kind of lady,” they said.

Volt nodded amicably. “Oh, Brilli would’ve absolutely  _adored_  you! If you managed to impress her, that is, which I have no doubt you could’ve done. She passed away a few years ago, unfortunately. Candy’s Charizard, Ruby, is her daughter and just as prideful. Honestly, though, I think the personality’s just a part of that evolution line.” He paused to snicker. “I bet the ornerier they are, the higher their attack stat – that would certainly explain it from an evolutionary standpoint.”

Noire raised a brow, making a mental note to check up on that tidbit later. Not that they’d have use for it with their own team – they weren’t one to use fire-types in battle – but Amelie might be able to make something useful out of it. A seemingly wild guess was worth considering when postulated by an experienced hatchist with world-class intuition, after all.

“Anyway, up we went. Let it be known I wasn’t a _complete_ idiot – I knew enough to put on a jacket, at least.” He made a face, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Still wore shorts, though.”

“I’m assuming you learned your lesson?” Noire intoned.

“Oh, man, hell yeah. I thought my legs were gonna freeze solid and need to be chopped off once we got high enough to see the storm front. The only reason I didn’t suffer more is ‘cause Brilli ran pretty hot and I was clinging to her pretty tight on account of the wind,” Volt said, a wistful smile splitting his lips. “It was completely worth it, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “The sky was spectacularly blue above the clouds. Large – like, _massive!_ – cumulonimbus clouds piled one on top of the other, creating waves all the way to the horizon, shimmering and rumbling beneath us like a roaring ocean, lighting flashing just beneath the fluffy surface. The sun reflecting off the top of them was so bright it almost blinded me. And it was so cold! And windy and loud and- and- you know?” He let out an excited breath, eyes bright. “The air was so thin up there I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.”

“I could see a dumbass like you blacking out from being that high up.”

Volt opened his mouth and raised a hand, pointer finger extended upward as though he was about to object. Then he seemed to think better of it, lowering his hand and looking away bashfully. “You know, I actually did. Slid right off Brilli’s back – probably gave the ol’ girl a heart attack. And then…”

He paused to sigh, staring out at the storm raging around them. “Well, that’s a story for another day. Suffice to say, I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.”

Noire studied him for a moment, watching how a sudden flash of lightening cast strange shadows on his expression, catching on the darkness of something within him and making him look for a moment much older than he was. It also served to illuminate the lines of his face, cutting through the gloom and showcasing the tightness around his eyes, the almost-gone freckles decorating his nose. He looked wistful, and for some reason that struck a chord with them.

“You miss it?” they asked, unable to stop the words from slipping passed their lips, “Your world?”

Volt nodded, eyes glued to the water coming down in front of him. “Yeah. Being here, in this world, it’s like I’m back in that sky – there’s air, but it’s cold and it hurts to breathe. I can see home on the horizon,” he said, hand lifting to catch a palmful of the rain, his face twisting into something beyond pained, “But I… I can’t reach it.”

He dropped his hand, water slapping the ground with a messy splash, his spine curling slightly as he sighed.

They wanted to tease him for being so stupidly, unnecessarily poetic, but once again his expression made the barb die on their tongue and they swallowed it back bitterly. It felt, for once, that they were seeing him be totally honest. The truthful side of him was darker than he let on and it made them uneasy that they were the one to see it.

Noire had to look away from him, from the boy that had fallen in love with the storm, the man that the storm loved back - dropped into this fucked up world, displaced in time and space, surrounded by familiar strangers.

They didn’t get the chance to decide if they pitied or despised him more because Amelie chose that moment to roll up in her car. Though the windows were tinted, they got the feeling she was watching the two of them closely, likely with a raised brow. Noire turned to retrieve their jacket from the bench only to find Volt already holding out to them, the same inane smile on his face that he wore every minute of every day. That pissed them off for some reason and they snatched it out if his hand, shrugging it on with a grimace at how cold and wet the fabric was.

“Want a ride, dumbass?” they asked, offended when he looked surprised.

“Oh, no thanks, I’m good!” he said, shrugging, “I think I’ll take whatever bus comes next and see where it takes me. It’ll be like an adventure!”

“Your loss. Amelie probably wouldn’t want your soggy ass ruining her upholstery, anyway.” Noire paused before they made a dash for the car, looking over their shoulder at him. He looked completely pathetic - soaked to the bone, about to be left on his own in the rain while waiting for a bus that might take up to an hour to arrive. They scoffed as a completely irrational thought occurred to them, saying whimsically, “Hey, birdbrain 2.0.”

“Hm? What’s up.”

Noire hesitated. “Next time that asshole ‘cousin’ of yours decides to take advantage of my hospitality, tell him to bring you along.”

“Your hospitality?” Volt said, blinking. “Ah, right! I remember Spark said something about you guys watching movies together in the Rocket compound.” He paused to shake his head, smile turning politely apologetic in a way that made their hackles want to rise. “Thanks for the offer but, well, I don’t wanna intrude on-”

“If I’m inviting your stupid ass then it’s hardly intruding, shithead,” they pointed out.

Volt considered them for a moment, expression sliding just shy of unreadable. “Ah, well, what the hell,” he said in a breath, chuckling, “Never let it be said I’m a _complete_ saint. Thanks, Noire. I’ll look forward to it!” The storm seemed to agree with his enthusiasm, thunder rumbling loudly all around them after a volley of lightning strikes in the distance.

Noire scoffed, gesturing dismissively before they bolted out into the rain. Amelie looked at them strangely as they slid in, and it was only when they caught sight of their reflection in the windshield that they saw their own smile.

\---

Spark awoke to someone lightly running their fingertip down his nose, tapping the tip of it just to be cheeky. He grunted, swatting out in sleepy annoyance, vilified when the bed intruder yelped. He opened his eyes groggily, scowling. “What time is it?” he slurred, his internal clock already telling him it was just before dawn despite his body’s protesting.

Stupid Daylights Saving Time. It should be illegal. (Fearow agreed.)

Volt just smiled at him, ruffling his hair. The other man lay on top of the covers, shoes and jacket off but ultimately still wearing what he had the day before. There were black lines on both of his cheeks, smudged with sweat and blurring at the edges. “Time for you to get up and watch the sunrise with me!” he chirped, gently patting his cheek.

“Is it? ‘Cause it feels like it’s time for you to tell me what you were up to last night,” Spark replied with a yawn, snorting when his doppelganger’s nose wrinkled from the blast of morning breath he may or may not have aimed specifically in his direction.

There was an echo of laughter (cawing, really) in his head that made his lips twitch up into a grin.

“Aw, did you wait up for me?” Volt cooed, batting his lashes coyly.

All he got for a reply was a dull, flat stare. In truth, Spark was actually surprised he’d been able to fall asleep at all without his doppelganger. It had only been a few months and yet he’d become very used to the other man’s presence when he fell asleep. The bed just was too large, too cold without him in it. Well, maybe not  _cold_  – there were plenty of Pokemon to break out of their Pokeballs and sneak under the covers to curl up against him at night.

Volt met his gaze readily and a staring contest was held for approximately 3 seconds before Spark got bored. If the other man wasn’t going to tell him anything, he may as well take matters into his own hands. He shifted closer, burying his face in his lookalike’s chest and inhaling.

“You smell like other people,” he assessed, voice muffled, “A  _lot_  of other people. Sweat and Pokemon, too.”

Volt hummed in acknowledgement, fingers running through his bedhead and rubbing his neck. Spark relaxed into the petting, letting out a little pleased hum of his own when the clever hands found a crick in his neck and began gently rubbing it out. Stiff muscles were a pain and a half to deal with and his lookalike was decidedly  _fantastic_  at massages - probably a product as actually being able to  _feel things_  with his hands, though.

“What’s the verdict, Sherlock?” he teased, “What was I up to last night?”

“Clubbing?” he guessed.

“Ha, nope!” Volt said, “Try again!”

"Sporting event?"

"Nah, if I wanted to play with balls I would've just come back here."

They both snickered immaturely at that.

“Setting up that surprise of yours for Blanche?” he tried, “The mysterious one you  _refuse_  to actually tell me about?” Volt hadn’t elaborated on the ‘surprise’ his text had implied he was setting up for the icy Team Mystic leader, no matter how much Spark begged and heckled and cajoled him. It was gonna be a big one judging by the fact he had used  _eleven_  lightning bolts. That Spark was being left out of the loop was absolutely  _killing_  him.

The other blond snorted, lightly rubbing his knuckles against his head in a poor-man’s noogie. “Nice try, but I didn’t have  _that_  much fun!”

“You still had fun, though,” Spark mumbled, surly and childish at just the thought, “Without me.” The hands retracted and he wished he hadn’t said anything.

“I had fun, yeah,” Volt said, tugging him up to press a kiss to his forehead, “But it was  _for_  you!”

Spark stared at him dumbly. “I… don’t follow.”

His doppelganger just smiled and hauled him out of bed. “C’mon,” he cheered, “Watch the sunrise with me. I have it on good authority it’s gonna be a  _great_  view today!”

Spark stumbled after him, stifling another yawn with his free hand as Volt threaded their fingers together and tugged him out onto the balcony. It was a chilly morning and he debated on heading back inside immediately to find actual pants. He forgot all about the cold, however, when his vision cleared and he saw what Volt had apparently meant by a ‘great view’.

The city was still, silver buildings turning rosy with the oncoming sun, sky surprisingly devoid of even the smallest cluster of clouds. The most shocking, however, were the yellow beacons that shone brightly in the morning skyline, a golden glow expanding out along the horizon in all directions as far as the eye could see.

“You…” Spark breathed, numb in the way that was a prelude to a storm of emotions, “You took over the city? For  _me?!_ ”

(‘ _Marry him_ ,’ Fearow supplied helpfully in his head.)

‘Hey, now, I can’t take  _all_  the credit!” Volt replied, grin wide as he reached into his pocket and tugged out his phone, shaking it teasingly, “Yellow Squad really delivers when a local celeb sends up the-” He didn’t get a chance to finish that thought, what with Spark grabbing him by the shirt and tugging him in a for a sloppy, elated kiss that quickly (and predictably) turned into a make out session on the balcony.

Spark paused occasionally, breathing hard as he glanced back over the yellow cityscape and snickered, kissing the other man again with increasing mirth. Volt’s hands wandered – tangling in his hair, rubbing his shoulders, fingertips trailing along his spine before boldly grabbing his ass. To say Spark was pleased with the attention was an understatement.

Volt kissed him like he loved him and Spark was just selfish enough to return the favor.

They both froze when they heard Spark’s phone suddenly go off in the apartment, glancing into the darkness before turning back to the city in time to see a few of the gyms fade to grey only to jump back up with a fiery crimson beacon.

“Candela’s up,” Volt observed.

“Shit,” Spark said, “I am  _not_  answering that call!”

Volt snorted, pressing his lips to Spark’s cheek affectionately. “She can’t roast you over this – you knew nothing about it,  _remember?_ ”

“Plausible deniability,” Spark intoned, letting out an amused huff, “You cheeky little shit! I’m gonna suck your dick so hard for this it’ll pop right off!” He leaned in to press his mouth against Volt’s only for the other man to move back and evade.

“There is something you can do for me, actually,” he said, hands warm on Spark’s waist, “Something I need.”

“What?” he replied, taking in his lookalike’s rumpled appearance, heart beating hard and fast in his chest with something like adoration. Volt’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with messy hair and bruised lips, framed by the sun rising and the glorious yet temporary golden skyline. Fearow cooed with delight at the sight and Spark toyed with the idea of skipping work all together for the day.

“A plane ticket,” Volt said, “And an alibi.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A HUMONGOUS shout-out to my sister, [illysum](http://illysum.tumblr.com/), who was my ~~word gremlin~~ beta for this chapter. Seriously, she helped me iron out most of the dialogue at, like, one in the morning.
> 
> Strap in, guys, this is gonna be a bumpy first climax.

“Just _what_ do you think you are doing, darling?”

Volt flinched, looking up sheepishly, squinting at the silhouette in the doorway. The bright white light from the hallway made it difficult to identify the speaker, but he’d know that voice anywhere. “Oh, hey, Candela. Fancy meeting you here!” he said, tossing in a nervous laugh as he rose from where he'd been tying his shoes, running a hand through his hair.

The Valor leader didn’t look impressed, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. “This charity event is being hosted in one of _my_ gyms, Volt,” she said, raising a brow at him imperiously, “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?”

“Well, I mean, I was kinda hoping to reach the finals before-- Wait, did you say ‘we’?”

“‘sup, bro!” Spark grinned at him, eyes twinkling in obvious amusement as he leaned around Candela. Stepping out from behind her, he studied the holding area curiously. He squinted at the wall of plaques honoring the gym's previous leaders with the same level of intrigue that Volt had had when he saw them.

Blanche, however, looked positively peeved.

"Utilizing team-bound Pokemon is prohibited and grounds for forfeit," they said briskly, entering, "Not to mention it's in poor taste to use Pokemon from a team that your... relation is the leader of."

" _Excuse you_ , I hatched all these guys myself!" Volt said, gesturing to the Pokeballs attached to his belt. "Evolved them, too." His proud smile was so sunny it bordered on obnoxious, and when combined with Spark’s matching smug grin it left the impression of juvenile arrogance.

"Really?” Blanche said, unconvinced, “I don't recall many civilian trainers having access to Mareep eggs in Opal City."

He let out a single bark of laughter. "No shit! That's why I traveled _out_ of the city to get one."

“You did _what?!_ ”

"Ohhh, so that's why you wanted to go to Kalos!" Spark said, smacking his own forehead, "Duh! Did you hatch 'em all there? That would make them qualified to battle in this tournament since you wouldn't have been able to use our facilities."

Volt nodded, sharing a conspiratorial look with his 'cousin'. "Yup! I either found them in the wild or went to breeders that weren't affiliated with the Go Program - just to be on the safe side. And all that recorded field-training meant I leveled up enough to officially register as a trainer for the best, yellowest team on the planet!"

The two of them high-fived at that, Spark catching Volt in a headlock and giving him an affectionate noogie. “About damn time, bro!” he said, “I was seriously worried you were gonna flake out on me!”

“Never!” he gasped dramatically, “Don’t you trust me at all?”

“With my _life_ ,” Spark replied, grin somehow growing to be equal parts sentimental and devious, “And other parts of me, too.”

"You both are incorrigible!" Blanche hissed, glaring between the two of them. They rounded on the flashier blond, eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a flat, unhappy line. "Spark, he was not supposed to leave the-"

"Oh, come _on_ , Blanche. Don't have such a frozen stick up your ass," Spark drawled, letting Volt out of the headlock so he could drape an arm across his shoulders, "The poor guy was going stir-crazy since you two decided to cut him off from all social media. Look at him! He’s positively drying up from a lack of memes!" Volt sent them a pitiful look, complete with lip wobbling.

“In our defense, it was an absolute _nightmare_ to retake all our gyms,” Candela offered, pinning the two blonds with an unimpressed look – who, in turn, cowered slightly under her intense gaze. “The press went crazy about it, too, if you remember. Putting a temporary gag order on him was the _least_ we should do.”

The Team Instinct leader paled. “Yeah, but-”

"It’s also for his own protection!" Blanche argued, glowering at Spark when he pouted at them for cutting him off, "He's been given celebrity status due to his relationship to you, and your interviews together have only exacerbated the problem. One slip-up could spell disaster for us all. That he's somehow managed to enter this televised _and_ livestreamed tournament without our knowledge is-"

"Chill out, Blanche,” Spark drawled, frowning, “Let the man have his fun!"

“He cannot be allowed to-”

"We'd _love_ to let him have his fun, darling," Candela broke in, "So long as it doesn't break any of the rules. Or generate any bad press."

Volt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Under Article 3, section B.2 through B.6: a trainer can battle Pokemon that are not native to the region so long as the board has been given ample time to evaluate the health and status of said Pokemon and provide any adjustments the trainer might need to care for and train it. In the event that the Pokemon is injured or lost, special recompense shall be paid to the trainer.”

“I sent in my application prior to the tournament's start date and was given permission to participate after a full evaluation of my team.” He waved a hand dismissively when Blanche opened their mouth to protest. “ _And_ , as this is a charity event and not an official battle for team prestige, Articles 5, 7, and 12 also need not apply."

The silence that followed his monologue was resounding.

" _Dude_ ," Spark said, starry-eyed, "Did you just quote the rulebook at us? That's _awesome!_ "

“Thanks, buddy! I mean, it helps if you actually _read_ the damn thing instead of skimming it, you know…” He gave the team leader a meaningful look, to which Spark responded by sticking out his tongue.

Candela scoffed, her disbelieving amusement shining through as she finally relaxed and rolled her eyes. “Well, darling,” she drawled, shooting Blanche a look, “He’s got us there.” Blanche simply huffed in reply.

“Man, you’re so uptight today!” Spark complained, quirking a brow at them, a sly grin splitting his lips. “You know, I hear there’s a really great way to release some tension. You should try it! All you gotta do is take off your clothes and-”

“No.”

“But-”

“ _No_ , Spark.”

“Why _are_ you so tense lately?” Volt asked, meeting their gaze, “It’s like you have something to hide.”

Blanche didn’t have a chance to reply as the event staff swept in to announce that all the semifinalists needed to meet in the practice gym to warm up with their teams and draw lots for the last two battles of the day. The leaders were exclaimed over, of course, and arrangements were made so that the trio and their assistants would be able to watch the semifinals in the box they would also be seated in for the finals the following day.

Volt looked over his shoulder at the three as he was ushered away, unnoticed, eyes lingering on the blue-clad figure as his sunny expression slipped briefly. Then he squared his shoulders and adjusted his hat, chatting amicably to the staff member beside him as they walked about the pro and cons of placing Grass-type eggs near water versus in the sun.

-/-

The semifinals took off with a bang.

The first round was between a Valor trainer named Windie and a Mystic trainer named Jugon, and they did each of their teams proud. Though they still could only use three Pokemon – six would be used in the finals – Windie’s team’s overwhelming power and Jugon’s strategically formulated crew meant that the battle was long and intense.

Windie ended up being declared the winner, but only by the skin of his teeth. Each trainer shook the other's hand, Jugon going the extra mile and offering to meet up with him after the tournament so they could train their teams together. Judging by the flirty wink she sent his way as they left the platform, however, it was obvious she had more than just that on her mind.

As the field was cleared, the crowd was kept entertained by a live music performance by two fairly prominent singers. They finished the show by singing a remixed duet of an [old battle anthem](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=prt1jjuivM8), clear, clean vocals and a nostalgic rock theme soaring high above the cheers.

The leaders of all three teams in the city - Valor, Mystic, and Instinct - were all available for a short interview during the intermission. Each praised the two semifinalists and offered analysis of the battle and of their three Pokemon teams.

Leader Candela reportedly looked forward to seeing her victorious team member compete with a full team in the finals the following day. Then she and Leader Blanche got into a spat about which team would be victorious overall. Leader Spark cut in to remind them that this tournament was a charity event and thus none of the battles could be counted toward team prestige. He went on to point out that his distant cousin, Volt, would be competing and seemed to imply that he would be the one to beat.

All questions were suspended after that, the leaders' assistants escorting the reporters from the luxury box in preparation for the second and last round of the day.

The second round had Volt (from Team Instinct, obviously) verses a trainer called Kairyu. Passionate and proud, it seemed like she should've been wearing red instead of azure based on her personality. However, her qualifying battles the previous two days had proven that her mind was as sharp as any Mystic's, and her Pokemon were well trained with a wide move-pool suitable for a variety of situations.

Volt, by comparison, was probably there mostly on luck. His team was decent and his tactics sound, but he didn't seem to be taking it as seriously as his opponents and it showed by his many near-losses in the qualifiers.

Instead, he engaged his opponents in conversations, entertaining the crowd with his blasé attitude and overly dramatic reactions. He'd even spent an entire battle evaluating an Instinct trainer's Tauros in perfect replica of Spark's assessment style - to the point the other trainer had broken down into hysterical laughter and had needed to use a timeout so he could collect himself.

It really did seem like Volt was just there to have fun.

-/-

The beginning of his and Kairyu's battle went about as expected. They played off each other well, the Mystic trainer catching on to his love of theatrics and pushing up her aggression to act as a foil to his goofiness.

“You Mystics,” Volt chuckled, shaking his head and recalling his fallen Exeggutor (named Omelette, of all things), “You think you know everything. That all your battles can be won just by type-matching your opponents.”

“It’s served me pretty well so far,” Kairyu snapped, tilting her head up smugly when the crowd cheered, “Unlike you Instincts who just flail around blindly based on whatever pops out of your eggs first. At least Valors know to look for strength in their teams.”

“That’s true, that’s true,” he said, waving off some of the heckling, “But I think you’ll find Yellow Squad has a little more to offer than just our _eggcellent_ nest-side manner and sick fashion sense.”

"Fashion sense? You mean the one you're obviously lacking?" The masses exploded with laughter and even Volt grinned. He showed off his awful orange and white default trainer hoodie with obvious pride, winking when the cheers took on a distinctly feminine pitch when the motion revealed a small sliver of his abdomen.

What a ham.

Volt finally summoned his last Pokemon, pausing to let the crowd ohh and ahh over its appearance. Ampharos were rare even in the region where they were found, so it was a treat for all to see it compete.

Kairyu's Dragonite - her last Pokemon - shifted in place and studied the newcomer curiously. The Wacan Berry held in his paw would definitely be useful against such a strong Electric-type foe, and since they were not in an official match, items were allowed.

Hence the strange stone Volt's Ampharos (named Zipper) was wearing on a silver chain. No one was certain what it was, assuming the item name on the roster was just the trainer being cheeky. Seriously, who names a pebble after a Pokemon and then forces its namesake to carry it into battle?

"I think I like you, Kairyu, because you take so much time to hone your team members' strengths. How about I show you something cool?" Volt offered, fiddling with an equally strange bracelet on his left wrist, "Who knows - maybe it'll teach you a thing or two about evolution."

"You? Teach _me_ about _evolution?_ " Kairyu scoffed, rolling her eyes, "That'll be the day!"

"Yeah, well, might want to mark your calendar and get out your pen and paper," Volt said, chuckling, "Because I'm about to take you to school – Zipper, Mega Evolve!"

The crowd gasped when the Ampharos on the field started to shimmer, disappearing in a burst of brilliant blue and gold light that then bled together into white. Some screamed in fear, others in wonder, all rising to their feet and peering down in trepidation at the arena. There had been evolutions mid-battle before, but a trainer being able to command a Pokemon to evolve at will... That was unprecedented.

The glow faded and a hush fell over the stadium.

Zipper's toes had turned black, white wool sprouting from the back of its head and over its tail with many small, red orbs interwoven in the fur. Its conical ears retained their black and yellow stripes, but were segmented between the two colors with swirled tips.

"Mega Ampharos. Dual-type." Volt said suddenly, breaking the silence and gesturing to the Pokemon, "Electric-Dragon."

He sent a look in the direction of the luxury box where the team leaders were seated, eyes lingering on one in particular a beat longer than the others.

The blood seemed to drain from Kairyu's face, leaving her pale with wide eyes as she clearly reviewed the typing chart in her mind. She looked to the battle judge for assistance, but as Volt had announced the evolution's name and typing as per protocol, there was nothing the judge could do.

The battle would continue, and it was unlikely her Dragonite would be able to overcome the 2x advantage the ‘Mega Ampharos’ would have from both Electric and Dragon attacks.

“Zipper,” Volt said briskly, unsmiling now as he turned back to face his opponent, “Use Dragon Pulse.”

-/-

An ice spear almost took his head off.

Volt ducked out of the way just in time, watching it shatter against the wall of the holding room with wide eyes. That had been close. He turned to see where it had come from (even though he knew perfectly well who the source had been) only to find himself being pinned against the wall.

“What. The hell. Was that?!” Blanche growled, the hand they had fisted in his shirt forming frost, "Well?"

“Wasn’t it cool?” he asked excitedly.

“What _was_ it?”

“That,” Volt said, grin wide, “Was a Mega Evolution.”

“A Mega… W _hat?_ ”

"Woah, are you two gonna start making out? Can I watch?" Spark said as he slid into the room, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall.

“Arceus, I hope so," Candela groaned, also entering to leer at the tournament finalist and other team leader, “I could use something pleasant to end the day. Reporters are _persistent!_ " She punctuated the statement with a harsh sigh, running a hand through her hair.

"Is it really that bad out there?" Volt asked, tilting his head.

“ _You have no idea._ ”

“But more publicity for the tournament means more money for the charity, doesn’t it?"

“Yes, but at what cost?” Blanche said, letting him go and taking a step back. They crossed their arms in front of their chest, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Do you only ever consider the cost of things, Blanche?” Volt shot back, “Do you not see any benefits for such a discovery?”

"You know, he has a point," Spark said, grinning as Candela hummed.

The Mystic leader lifted their chin, glaring at him imperiously, their green eyes glittering in the holding room’s lighting. "This discovery – you said it was called ‘Mega Evolution’?" they bit out, rolling the words around in their mouth, "What is that? Where did you learn of it? Does have something to do with that bracelet of yours?” They stepped forward, trying to grab his wrist.

Volt quickly tucked his arm behind his back, pressing up against the wall. “Funnily enough, me and my friends heard about it ages ago. I guess there are _some_ neat things that come from learning about my world,” he said, eyes bright.

Blanche’s eyes narrowed. “Is it a natural evolution?” they asked, shifting slightly, “As I’m sure you’re aware, it is both unlawful and unethical to have a Pokemon preform under duress.”

“Oh, no, Mega Evolution is completely natural,” Volt replied, “It’s a temporary evolution – more of a transformation, really. If I brought Zipper out right now, she’d be back to her usual, fluff-less self. She’d also be pretty tuckered out, though. I mean, this was one of her first real battles!”

“Dude, that’s awesome!” Spark piped up, tilting his head, “How do you do it? The Mega Evolution thingy.”

“I’d like to know more about it, myself,” Candela said eagerly.

“Heh, well, to quote the Mega Evolution guru-“

“ _There’s a **guru?!**_ ” Spark and Candela shouted simultaneously (Spark in delight and Candela in disbelief), making the other two jump.

“Duh! All the best things have gurus!” Volt said, grinning at the pair, “Anyway, to make Mega Evolution work, you need two items: a Mega Stone for the Pokemon and the Mega Ring, which has a stone set in it, for the trainer.”

“Why have I not heard of this?” Blanche said quietly, almost to themselves.

Volt shrugged. “It’s not surprising. They’ve only just started researching the actual process instead of attributing it to fanciful regional lore.”

“But _you_ knew about it?” Candela said, impressed.

“Sure!” Volt said, “Like I said, my friends are amazing!”

“How could they have discovered it before us?” Blanche asked, brows furrowed, their lips pressed into a thin, unhappy line as they began to pace, “Surely our research and development program is superior. If either of our worlds were to find this new form of evolution, it should have been ours.”

“Well, Blanche, the differences between our worlds manifest themselves in many ways. I guess you’ve never had to adapt to a challenge like this before - I mean, it must be hard to prepare for something you never thought possible.” Volt met their gaze, words dripping with meaning. “Kind of like trying to find a lost friend when you have no leads on where to look and no _stars_ to guide them home, either.”

The Mystic leader froze, stiffening, their eyes widening in realization. “I see.”

“Do you?” Volt countered, moving closer to them. They stared at each other for a moment, sizing the other up, not quite hostile but definitely tense.

“Uh,” Spark said, looking between the two with a puzzled expression, his lax posture straightening, “I get the feeling I’m missing something here.”

“Agreed,” Candela said, her eyes narrowing, “Did something happen between you two that we should know about?”

“I don’t know,” Volt said, crossing his arms, “Blanche, is there something these two should hear about, preferably from you? Maybe something about your priorities?” He was met with a stony silence.

“Blanche.” Candela had moved to the middle of the room and was staring at them, concern and confusion written clearly on her face. “What is he talking about?”

Blanche glared at Volt, fists clenching at their sides as he met their gaze readily. They inhaled, letting the air hiss out between their teeth in a harsh sigh before saying, “I have moved personnel in a way I deemed fit,” they said dully, “That is all.”

“Moved personnel?” Spark said, confused for a moment before his eyes widened in horrified comprehension, his arms uncrossing as he pushed off from the wall. “ _Which_ personnel?”

“Those working on the Stargate Project.”

“The Stargate Project?” Candela echoed, mystified, inhaling sharply, “Wait, that’s the one trying to send Volt home!”

“Are you serious?” Spark exploded, making his way toward them, “Do you know how important that is?!” His lips were pulled back to reveal his teeth, eyes glowing a vivid yellow. Each footstep had the weight of a thunderclap, a faith smell of ozone rising in the air. Volt moved to intercept him, hair crackling as he carefully pushed his doppelganger back.

“The project seemed to be destined for failure,” Blanche said primly, arms curling around their torso. They stared off to the side, unable to look in the Instinct duo’s direction. “I was merely protecting--”

"Funny,” Volt said, sending a look over his shoulder, “I thought you of all people would understand how it feels to be quantified as a failure."

Spark’s eyes moved quickly away from Blanche to rest on Volt’s face, gaze lingering and intense. His frame still vibrated with energy, but his posture released some of its tension, almost forgetting his outrage for a moment in favor of astonishment at his lookalike’s biting tone.

"You're out of line, Volt!" Candela snapped, stepping in between the three as Blanche’s face twisted in shock and near-horror.

He acknowledged her with a quick glance, but his eyes fell back to the Mystic leader. "For someone that claims to stand alone, unmatched, you sure do have a lot of people to fall back on," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically cold, "I'd hate to see the day you lose that support due to your own arrogance."

Volt let go of Spark, shaking his hand out to get rid of the electric thrum as he headed toward the entrance. His shoulders were tense, head bowed, shoving his untingling hand into his pocket. He paused at the door, heaving a large sigh and looking back to catch Spark’s eye.

"You know the Professor in Kalos?" he asked.

"Professor Sycamore, right?" Spark said.

Volt nodded, glancing at Candela who was still standing in front of Blanche. "It might be worth the effort to email him. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to talk to you after the tournament footage from today goes online."

He opened the door, pausing as he took in the stunned assistants loitering outside, then left without another word.

Annie shook out of her stupor first, calling out after his retreating form, “Volt!” She sighed when he didn’t turn back, entering the room with a frustrated face. “I told you this would happen, Blanche! You should have spoken to them sooner.” She crossed her arms, huffing when they refused to meet her eye.

The other two assistants entered quietly, closing the door behind them.

Spark rolled his shoulders and walked away from the other two team leaders, returning to his position on the wall, arms crossed and gaze poisonous. “I can’t believe you would pull this shit when he’s _already_ running out of time!” he hissed, a faint echo still rumbling in his tone.

“Running out of time?” Carl said, quirking a brow, “What on earth are you talking about?” The Instinct leader remained stubbornly mute and continued attempting to burn a hole through Candela to get at Blanche with his eyes alone. He sighed then looked up when Go put a hand on the back of his wheelchair to steady himself, the other man’s expression frightfully pale.

“It wasn’t just a cold,” he murmured, staring wide-eyed at his team leader, “Was it?”

Spark glanced around the room, noting at all eyes were suddenly upon him.

“Spark?” Go pressed.

“Fine,” he said tersely, “But what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Volt… well, he’s a better person than any of us because he didn’t want you all to worry.” He paused, glaring in Blanche’s direction. “However, seeing as _some_ people seem to need a bit of incentive, I’ll tell you what’s really been going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /jazz hands


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, guys. The wait will hopefully have been worth it, though! As always, shout-out to my sister, [illysum](http://illysum.tumblr.com/), who who may as well be co-authoring this at this point. 
> 
> This chapter, I was able to chunk in a couple of Rocket characters I know from Facebook. I don't own any of them and was given permission by their creators to include them here! Please go check them out: [Syric - Medic of Team Rocket](https://www.facebook.com/MedicSyric/), [SG - Security Grunt of Team Rocket](https://www.facebook.com/SGofTR/), [Dmitri - Agent of Team Rocket](https://www.facebook.com/dmitri.rocket/), and [Ashwyn - The Wandering Trainer](https://www.facebook.com/Ashwyn-The-Wandering-Trainer-143415686119738/) <3
> 
> Also, just so there's no confusion, the Rocket Fam knows nothing about what Spark told the others in the last chapter. I'm sure that's not gonna be a problem later on!!

“Well look what the Meowth dragged in!”

“That has _got_ to be the cheesiest damn line in the entire universe, Noire.”

“Make that _two_ universes, buddy.”

Spark snorted and high fived his doppelganger, devolving quickly into an extended secret handshake of dorky proportions between the two of them. Elbows were involved at one point, as were what could only be described as spirit fingers. Noire scowled at both of them, arms folded over their chest.

“You know,” they drawled, “I’m almost tempted to not let you in.”

“I will.” Amelie punched in the access code, lifting her chin smugly at her boss’s annoyed expression as the gates opened.

“Aw, don’t get too bent out of shape about your authority being usurped,” Volt said cheerily, throwing an arm around their shoulders, “Amelie just wants her booze.” He raised a bag and wiggled it at her, the tinkling of glass sounding. The redhead immediately took it from him, glancing at the assortment held within and, well, the last time she’d looked _that_ pleased she’d set something on fire.

“Anything good?” Syric asked, raising a brow at her answering sly grin. He also peered into the bag, letting out a low whistle. “Ohh, nice! Carl always does send the best care packages.”

“It’s hardly a care package, Syric,” she replied, sniffing primly as she held the bag higher in triumph, “I _won_ this off that sly bastard!”

“Oh yeah, I rememb-”

“Will you two assholes knock it the fuck off?! It’s creepy as shit!”

Syric and Amelie looked over to see their boss being circled by the two Instincts. Noire’s hackles were undoubtedly raised, green eyes narrowed as they glared at the blonds. Volt and Spark wore matching grins, mischief bleeding off them in waves. At an unseen signal, they moved toward one another, squishing the Rocket Executive between them.

“What the fuck?!” they squawked in indignation, throwing an elbow into Spark’s stomach as they put a hand on Volt’s face and tried to shove him away.

“Sandwich!” Volt said, laughing.

“Nah, bro, this is totally a _salt_ wich!”

“No way! They’re way too cute to just be salt,” Volt argued, his words muffled behind Noire’s palm, “We’re like, uh, a salted caramel poptart!”

“Correction: you’re _dead_ if you don’t fucking move it!” Noire hissed, glaring at the other two people in the parking lot who were currently not invading their personal space, “Oi, what do I pay you assholes for, huh? Get them off me!”

“For the millionth time, Noire, _you_ don’t pay us, and I’m half tempted to tell Sam to deduct from your paycheck every time you insinuate that you do,” Amelie said drily, flicking a Pokeball off her belt regardless. Syric beat her to the punch, though, his huge Arcanine shaking himself as he emerged from his ball and letting out a low ‘ _boof’_ when he saw the trio of fools squished together.

Volt let go of Noire immediately, eyes large with his hands up in supplication. “Holy shit,” he breathed, “That is the biggest firepup I’ve ever seen!”

“Thanks,” Syric said, grinning proudly, “His name’s Foozball.”

“ _Foozball?!_ That is, like, the _best_ name!” Volt exclaimed, eyes bright when he looked at the other man pleadingly, “Can I pet him?” He let out a happy cheer when Syric shrugged permissively, flouncing over to the Pokemon with an abundance of goofy excitement. Foozball didn’t seem to know what to do with the blond at first, though that quickly changed when he apparently found a good spot to rub under his jaw. The Arcanine let out a low rumble, eyes sliding shut in pleasure.

“Well, this certainly feels familiar,” Amelie said, placing her readied ball back in stasis mode and clicking it back onto her belt, “If I’m remembering it correctly, Spark had the exact same reaction when they first met – complete with kissy noises.”

“Careful, he might just steal Fooz from you,” Spark warned, grinning when the medic huffed. He continued to cling to Noire, who, for their own part, seemed momentarily distracted by the way Volt was cooing at the giant flaming fuzzball.

“Stealing a Pokemon _from_ a Rocket?” Syric said, chuckling and crossing his arms, “I’d pay good money to see that!”

Noire snickered. “I’d hire him on the spot if he could pull it off.”

“Hey!” Spark protested, pouting, “Quit trying to sneak him out from under me!”

“Forget who I work for again?” they snapped, seeming to finally realize he was still almost draping himself on top of them and shoving an elbow roughly into his ribs. “Spell it with me, birdbrain: R-O-C-K-E-T. Got it memorized?”

The Team Instinct leader grunted and moved off to the side, pouting as he rubbed at the bruise that was undoubtedly beginning to form. “You keep hitting on me like this and I’m gonna start getting annoyed,” he said, “Or turned on.”

“Like you weren’t already!” Syric chimed in, quirking a brow when the two turned toward him, “Being annoyed, that is, not the other thing.” He waved a hand. “Or is there _another_ reason you’d like to share for the torrential downpour we had to deal with last week?”

“Nah, he was probably pissy because Idiot #2 got sick again and had to forfeit the charity final to that Valor asshole,” Noire said, a smarmy grin on their face, “At least, that’s what the press were told. What really happened, though? Got scared because he knew he couldn’t hack it?”

Spark didn’t reply immediately, though his expression did darken slightly at the memory.

_The clouds rumbled angrily, flashing bright bursts of discharge all the way to the horizon. It hummed in consideration, fueling the storm, adjusting the height of a few clouds so the rain would come down harder and in needle-like pricks sharp enough to clatter against even the sturdiest windows._

_Standing on the roof of the Go Tower, Zapdos watched its creation with aggravated exasperation._

_The storm system had been raging since the night of the charity event, almost a week ago now, and it was beginning to get impatient. It looked across the city, trying to sense a brewing winter storm, but the blue bird remained listless – shackled to its bonded’s shame and holed up in their nest. It was torn by the situation, admittedly amused that Articuno could even **feel** shame yet offended that it dared not answer its storm for fear of it ripping the human it called home apart._

_As well it should. It could still taste Volt’s tears on Spark’s tongue, and the memory its human pulled up was bitter. Unlike the other two, Spark was well acquainted with his Titan, and thus their moods and thoughts often lay parallel to one another._

_The three of them had reconciled in Spark’s apartment, Volt apologizing profusely for keeping the blue-clad leader’s antagonistic actions from them. Spark had forgiven him almost immediately, the hurt in his heart sealing away and calcifying into something unimportant as they embraced. They were both forgiving by nature, and it was rare either of them held grudges._

_Perhaps that was why it worried about them so often._

_In truth, Zapdos had never been angry with its chick. He was a fledgling – meant to try and spread his wings, to fight his own battles. That he’d gone about it in such a circular fashion was intriguing, too. Its instincts cried for it to search for further hurt, sensing it residing in him, but in the end it focused on what it could control: getting revenge. Volt and Spark had both persuaded it to not attack Mystic Labs directly, and that was fine._

_A storm could be used to lure out a challenger as easily as it sent prey into hiding._

_It sneered, annoyed that its wintery counterpart would react with such cowardice in the face of its dare, when a sudden noise behind it made it turn. It relaxed minutely when Spark’s nose picked up the intruder’s scent through the rain as being some expensive human concoction involving musk and flowers, a layer of soot and cinder simmering under the cloying smell of her perfume._

_“You are not the one I am trying to summon,” it said drily, lightning striking three buildings off in the distance. Normally it would’ve tried to use some of Spark’s syntax, but its human seemed more than content to let it speak as it wished. Which was just as well for the storm was stirring enough of its blood as it was._

_Truly, if Articuno was to show its face, it would likely not do so when Zapdos had spent so much energy modifying their battle arena to suit its own needs._

_Candela remained unimpressed, raising a brow and lifting her chin. “Yet here I am.” She lingered under the safety of the overhang above the entryway, watching the water pour down around her shelter dispassionately._

_It inclined Spark’s head in acknowledgement, then turned back to watch the symphony in the sky it was conducting. A feral grin split Spark’s lips when a volley of lightning illuminated the city before them, glinting off the rain-soaked buildings, a roar of rolling thunder echoing in its bones. The Valor leader huffed, obviously annoyed by being brushed off so lightly, and moved closer to it, the rain bouncing off her expensive rain slicker easily though her hair was immediately drenched._

_“Sp- **Zapdos** ,” she said, correcting herself, “You need to stop this storm.”_

_“No.”_

_“Yes.” She didn’t flinch when it turned to glare at her. Impressive. “It’s been a **week** and you’re flooding the subway. Buildings are sustaining heavy damage and Pokemon are behaving erratically. The people are begging me to do something, so here I am. Just… knock it off, okay?”_

_“The suffering of humans is none of my concern,” it intoned, clenching Spark’s hands into fists, “One of my flock has been slighted. I demand recompense.”_

_“What, by turning the city into a marshland?”_

_“If that is what it takes-”_

_“Bull. **Shit**.” Candela lifted her chin and glared at it, crossing her arms over her chest. “Moltres might not want to come out to play right now, but even it thinks you’re both being stupidly overdramatic about all this.”_

_The absurdity of the statement gave it pause, wind whipping passed the both of them in a low howl. Moltres had thrown greater hissyfits over lesser slights in the past, for Arceus’ sake! Even still, it could detect no lie in her face or scent, and sensed a small echo of flames backing up her sentiment._

_Zapdos raised one of Spark’s brows, remembering vaguely that it would help convey its disbelief. “It is interesting that you run to defend that little blue hypocrite when it is so very obvious they do not hold you in the same regard,” it said, looking over at the woman, “Don’t you agree?”_

_“Excuse me?” Candela replied, offense simmering in her blood._

_“You claim to be little Mystic’s closest companion, yet they did not confide in you about moving the scientists away from the project for Volt. They seem even less inclined to cooperate with anyone their false sense of superiority deems unworthy,” Zapdos said, rounding on her, thunder rolling, “It is the foolishness of kings long dead whose thrones were dismantled even as they sat upon them.”_

_“That’s-” she protested, unable to get much farther than that before it cut her off._

_“Articuno fears my lost fledgling is the cause for any disturbance that may arise, but I believe it to be the human it has selected to bond with. They keep secrets, they hide behind walls they build out of fear and malice – worst of all, they abhor the bond and treat us as though we have no sway over them.”_

_“They’re scared!” Candela protested, “The bond is-”_

_“They are **Chosen!** ” Its words echoed, lightning lighting the sky in a complex weave of glowing fractals with a cacophony of thunder following, rattling even the concrete beneath their feet. “Nothing else matters. You cannot make excuses for their behavior forever, little Valor.”_

_“Don’t you think I know that?!”_

_Spark swallowed back its retort, recognizing something in her tone that it could not._

_The Team Valor leader sniffed, tucking a lock of wet hair behind her ear. Her normally perfect hairstyle lay plastered against her head, dark strands sticking to her skin and gleaming. “Blanche and I have known each other for half our lives,” she said dully and it lessened the rain so it could hear her, “And in all that time, with all the experiences we’ve shared, I still don’t know why they sometimes wake up screaming and crying, begging me to find their twin, to make sure they’re okay, to “Please, please, don’t let them get me, don’t let them get **Blanche** ”.”_

_The lightning Titan regarded her silently, cocking Spark’s head when she sucked in a deep, steadying breath. “So, yeah, I get where you’re coming from.” She paused to let out a choked laugh, running a hand through her slicked hair. “It’s frustrating as hell and I’m aware that Volt’s… unique situation makes that personality quirk seem infinitely worse. But it’s not like they shove people away without reason. At least, I hope they don’t…”_

_“They are unwilling to trust even you, one who is likely the closest to them anyone can be,” it said at length, Spark’s pity and horror and anxious curiosity coloring its resignation, catching how she flinched at its observation, “Perhaps they never will.”_

_Candela swallowed harshly, looking away, fists clenching at her side._

_It took a step toward her, using Spark’s numb hand to lift her chin and stare into her eyes. “But they **will** learn to heed **us** ,” it said quietly, searching her face, “They do not have a choice.”_

_She met its gaze, swallowing, resolute despite the pained undertone that lingered in her scent. “Stop the storm.”_

_It studied her for a moment, cocking Spark’s head to the side._

_“For you, little Valor,” it replied, ducking down to brush Spark’s lips against hers, sparks jumping between them to sting their skin as it moved to whisper into her ear, “Meet me in the northern meadow. You shall be my opponent this day, though be prepared – I have no intention of going easy on you. Consider it recompense for swaying me.” Thunder rolled, the rain tapering off slightly as the clouds above them rumbled._

_“You’ve drenched the earth for seven days,” she said tonelessly, resigned even as she undoubtedly felt the first twinges of flames tickling the back of her throat. It knew that Moltres would be more than a little eager to make the trade if that meant the world could finally become comfortable for it to exist in once more. “This will hardly be a fair fight.”_

_Zapdos moved back and grinned at her, sharp canines gleaming in Spark’s mouth. “I know.”_

“—even listening to me? Hey, earth to dumbass!”

Spark shook himself out of the memory, flinching and leaning away from the fingers that snapped close to his face. The urge to bite them was strong, but he was able to resist it. _Barely_. He scowled at the Rocket Executive, noting that their expressions mirrored one another fairly well.

He opened his mouth to reply but a noise nearby caught his attention – a familiar one he often made when in pain, though slightly muffled – and he scanned the rest of the lot with feral intensity. Foozball lay on the ground, panting slightly. He wagged his large, fluffy tail when Spark looked at him, the picture of canine innocence. His doppelganger, however, was nowhere to be found.

“Volt?” he called, the trio of Rockets seeming to realize something was off and looking around as well.

There was a beat of silence, then a small noise answered him, notably muted, and movement caught his eye. Out from the depths of Foozball’s stomach fluff emerged a pale hand. It waved at him wanly then flopped back down, hidden once again in the orange fur.

“Oh, for the love of-” Syric gave a disbelieving snort and strode over, hands on his hips as he looked down at the fire Pokemon. “Fooz,” he said sternly, “What have we said about laying on people?” Foozball cocked his head uncomprehendingly, the wagging of his tail slowing in his confusion. He let out a growling bark, Volt’s hand emerging from his stomach fluff once more to pat at his sides weakly.

Spark snorted, relaxing back into his usual goofy self as he also strode over to the three of them. “Aww, Volt’s getting cuddles!”

“Volt is _asphyxiating_ ,” Syric corrected, huffing as he shook Foozball’s Pokeball at the fluffy beast, “Get up, you great lug, or you’re going back in and not coming out for the rest of the night!”

Foozball let out a plaintive whine, ears drooping as he slowly rose and slunk off the man, his head lowered as he stared up at the medic pathetically. Syric, for his part, was not moved by the display, but Spark caved quickly – clicking his tongue and cooing at the Pokemon as he ruffled up his mane.

“You’re a good boy!” he assured Foozball, “Yes you are! The _best_ boy! You just gotta be careful, okay?” He chuckled when he received a happy bark and a lick to the face, looking down to where his doppelganger remained on the ground, “You doing alright there, bro?”

“Yeah,” Volt managed, winded, “Just trying to remember how lungs are supposed to work.” He sat up with a groan, rolling his shoulders and twisting from side to side. There was a loud, painful ‘ _crack’_ and everyone looked down at him in alarm. Not moving an inch, Volt looked up at Syric with large eyes and asked in a calm, quiet voice, “In your professional, medical opinion… how scared should I be to move?”

The other man let out a snort, rolling his eyes as he reached down and helped Volt to his feet. Spark reached over to fuss with his hair only to have his hands smacked away, to which he shrugged and moved on to poke at Syric’s topknot. This resulted in all three men attempting to mess with each other’s hairstyles, Foozball barking and growling as the trio danced around him.

“Hey, Moe, Larry and Curly!” Amelie said suddenly, exasperation bleeding into her tone, “Wrap it up. We need to move inside soon.”

“Huh? Why?” Volt asked, Spark caught under his arm and receiving one hell of a noogie.

“Because Grunt can only loop the security footage so many times, dumbass,” Noire supplied, rolling their eyes.

“Oh, right.”

-/-

“Okay, so you’ve met Foozball and are currently experiencing a Flerf Attack,” Amelie said, lips twitching as the giant Jolteon tried to crawl into the blond’s lap to lick his face, the aforementioned Arcanine rumbling from his position in the corner of the break room, “Would you like to meet Ember?”

“Who’s Ember?” Volt asked, eyes bright as he used both his hands to squish Flerf’s cheeks, sparks leaping off the rumpled fur in a way that was amusingly Pikachu-esque. Spark had tossed his rubber-palmed gloves at his doppelganger the moment Syric had, upon reaching their destination, let out his second-most utilized Pokemon. Though decidedly people-friendly outside of battle, even the Jolteon’s lowest shocks could still prove to be pretty nasty when he got excited.

“Ember’s her Ninetales,” Noire explained. They were perched quite happily in Spark’s lap, lips still pinned in the smirk that had appeared when the Team Instinct leader had frowned at them when they chose their seat. Syric and Amelie took up the rest of the couch, with Volt on the ground in front – though, in all honesty, he seemed perfectly content with his spot as it allowed him to roll around with the Pokemon in the room.

“You have a Ninetales? That’s awesome!” Volt exclaimed as he rubbed Flerf’s back, small bolts of electricity crackling in the air.

“Thanks,” Amelie said, smiling at him.

“She was super cute as a Vulpix, you know?” Noire paused to sigh dramatically. “I was _devastated_ when she evolved.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now? I suppose it _is_ shorter than saying ‘childish, ecstatic flailing before swan-diving into her tails.’” Amelie said, adopting her boss’s tone mockingly as she continued, “‘ _Merde_ , Amelie, this is _heaven!_ You should’ve had her evolve ages ago!’” The three men in the room dissolved into snickers while Noire simply glared daggers at their assistant.

“ _Anyway_ ,” they said with exaggerated emphasis, “Let Ember out. I wanna see this asshole lose his shit.”

Amelie rolled her eye but complied, the vulpine Pokemon emerging from her ball with a low keening howl. She immediately zeroed in on the newest member to join their motley movie night crew, eyes gleaming. Flerf took that as his cue to move away from Volt, shaking himself before trotting over to where Donglord was chewing on a toy and flopping down beside the much smaller Jolteon.

Volt stared back at the Ninetales, unblinking as he carefully slipped off Spark’s gloves and slowly reached out toward her. He made no other moves, simply extending his hand, palm turned up. Ember sniffed his fingers, nose twitching, and after a beat of tense silence, she ducked her head and pressed her muzzle into his hand. She allowed him a grand total of three pets before her tails twitched and she pulled back to stand and head over to Foozball’s corner to curl up.

“Wow,” Volt said, voice soft but filled with conviction, “She’s really something else. How exciting!”

Noire scoffed. “Is there a single Pokemon in existence that _doesn’t_ excite you?”

He frowned in concentration, eyes distant for a moment, then shook his head. “If there is, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting it yet.” Volt shared a grin with his lookalike, winking conspiratorially.

“Alright children,” Syric said, “Now that everyone’s been introduced-”

“Not true!” Volt objected, turning to stare up at Noire, “You _know_ who you gotta bring out! You brought her, right? Right?”

They smirked down at him, fingering a particular ball on their belt. “Did I?” they said slyly, smirk growing infinitely smugger when he pouted at them before pulling the orb off with a flick of their wrist. Half a beat later their Eevee emerged, shaking herself and squeaking indignantly at them. It wasn’t often Noire put her in the ball, but, well, they’d always had a flair for the dramatic.

And it was totally worth it this time, too.

If ever there was an expression Noire wanted framed (other than every face their twin made _ever_ ), it would be Volt’s in the moment he laid eyes on their Eevee. He sucked in a sharp breath, lips parted in awe as his eyes went wide, sparkling with obvious adoration as she hopped down from Noire’s lap to the floor and proceeded to clean one of her paws.

“Ohh,” Volt cooed, “She’s _gorgeous!_ ”

Their Eevee took notice of him when he spoke, tail twitching idly as she stared up at him.

“Well, you are,” he said, offering her his hand in much the same manner he did Ember, “Beautiful, talented, and incredibly smart! Arentcha? Huh? Who’s a clever girl?”

"If you think she's smart now, watch this: Eevee, _bang!_ " They raised a hand in the form of a gun and 'shot' her. Volt's jaw dropped when she flopped over and lay still, eyes closed with her tongue hanging out comically.

"Holy shit," Spark said, his brows high with surprise.

"That is the cutest thing I've ever seen!" Volt said in a rush, crawling over to her and dancing his fingers over her belly. " _Res, res, res- Phoenix Down!_ " He positively giggled when she shook herself and rolled over. His grin inexplicably brightened when she sniffed his fingers and licked one of them. “You are the most wonderful lady in the whole universe – and I should know! I’ve been to _two!_ ”

“Oh, yes,” Syric drawled, “Ply her with compliments. She’s absolutely weak to them.”

“They’re hardly ‘compliments’ if they’re all true!” Volt replied, coaxing her into his lap so he could run his fingers through her silky coat. “Oh, Noire, her fluff is perfect! How on earth do you manage-” The Eevee chirped at him indignantly, eyes going half-lidded when he started gently rubbing on her ears. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. It’s totally _all_ you, I understand. My mistake!”

Amelie snorted, rolling her eye. “You keep feeding her ego like this and we soon won’t be able to stand her.”

“Aw, don’t say that!” Spark said, a grin on his lips as he watched his doppelganger coo at the ball of brown fur, “We’ve gotta make sure her self-confidence grows up big and strong!” He reached down to muss up the fur on her stomach, nearly throwing Noire out if his lap in the process. He received a smack to the head and a swat on the hand for his efforts.

The redhead stared off into the distance dramatically, expression grave as she intoned, “One day, it will be as obnoxiously large as Noire’s.”

“Damn straight!” Noire said, a chorus of laughter erupting from the other four at their words.

“In all seriousness, Volt,” Syric said, “You best watch yourself. Noire’s been spoiling her rotten for years.”

“No! Not rotten!” Volt gasped, reaching down with both hands to press on her little toes when she stretched a paw toward him, “If anything, she’s been spoiled _sweet!_ ” The fluffy Pokemon let out a mewl of agreement, batting at his fingers playfully.

“He gets it,” Noire said firmly, offering him a single nod of approval.

“Anyway,” Syric said with exaggerated patience, “Now that everyone is _finally_ out and introduced, we still have to choose a movie.” He picked up the remote and waved at the others for emphasis.

“Volt’s the guest here,” Spark offered, “I vote he gets to choose.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It’s whatever.”

“What?” Volt exclaimed, looking up at the other four in alarm, “I thought you guys were gonna choose. Or have something already lined up. Oh, man, I didn’t even think to look at anything-”

“Jeeze, chill the fuck out. It’s not fucking rocket science, dumbass,” Noire said with a scoff.

“There is an unnecessary amount of situational irony in that sentence, Noire,” he replied.

“What are you- oh. Fuck you.”

“Heh. _Rocket_ science,” Spark said, “I get it.”

Noire glared at him. “I hate _both_ of you.”

“No you don’t!” the two blonds chirped together, Volt reaching up to high-five the other man when the Rocket Executive growled in annoyance.

“Jeeze, it’s like herding Persians!” Syric groaned, rubbing his face with a hand and sighing in exasperation.

“Here,” Amelie said, taking the remote from Syric and beginning to flip through the titles on-screen, “Volt, tell me when you see something you’d be interested in watching. We can vote if the rest of us want to see it. That way it’s fair and we’re not all stuck watching something stupid like ‘ _The History of Modern Memeology_ ’.”

The three Rockets sent a pointed look to the resident Team Leader, who, in turn, simply lifted his chin defiantly.

The next few minutes were spent scrolling through movie titles, pausing occasionally to comment on the goofiness of the cover art or the relative attractiveness of the main actors. There was a heated debate over whether playing a romantic comedy backwards would result in a tragedy. Popcorn was thrown at dissenters, as were more than a few elbows for good measure.

“Oh! Oh oh oh, Amelie, go back!” Volt said suddenly, almost dumping Noire’s Eevee out of his lap in his excitement, “No, wait, that’s too far. Up again- There! That one!” He pointed to the title with a bright grin and the rest of the room went eerily still. “‘[ _Maybe This Time_](http://www.surfacage.net/post/155025395884/maybe-this-time-movie-credit)’, huh? Noire, Spark, I didn’t know you two had a movie! Looks like they picked pretty decent actors, too!”

There was a moment of disbelieving silence.

“What the _actual fuck_ is that dumpsterfire of festering shit doing in our Netflix, Amelie?!” Noire exploded, glaring at their assistant venomously. Spark’s expression was flat with incredulity as he stared at the screen and Syric’s eyebrows had almost risen off his face.

“What?” Amelie said slyly, “Can’t a girl have a guilty pleasure? I like watching it when I need a good laugh.”

“At our expense,” Spark said drily.

“Well, yes, obviously.” She shrugged. “Ashwyn and Dmitri get a kick out of it, too.”

“Of course they do,” Syric said, snickering.

“Where are those two, anyway?” Spark asked.

“Ash’s bumming it with Grunt this evening,” Amelie said, “And I believe Dmitri is taking Pom out for some training.”

“D’aww,” Syric cooed, “It’s about time he and Laptop got to bonding again. Ever since the ball of fluff accidentally evolved into a Jolteon, Dimka’s been pretty leery of him.”

“What, was he disappointed with the evolution?” Volt asked, his expression going dark, “A lot of trainers can make their Pokemon feel bad about that, especially for ones that have a split evolution line like Eevees.” His words seemed to rumble with the ire of a storm. The three Rockets glanced at the other blond, noting his expression had gone just as grim.

“Nah, he adores Pom no matter what,” Noire covered quickly, “He’s just not too fond of Electric types in general. Can’t _imagine_ why.” They shot Spark a look, who then snorted, and the entire room seemed to relax.

“I see… Sooo,” Volt said slowly, looking up at the others, “That movie. Can we watch it?”

“ _No!_ ” cried Spark and Noire, nearly drowning out Amelie’s “Yes!” and Syric’s “Sure, why not?”

Volt pouted, pinning his double with a plaintive look. “C’mon, bro,” he said, “You owe me!”

“I do not!” Spark argued.

Volt’s expression flattened, saying simply, “Tangela flower crowns.”

The effect was immediate, Spark’s ears turning red as he became decidedly sheepish. He even went so far as to look away, fingers drumming a nervous beat on the top of one of Noire’s thighs. The three Rockets looked between the two in confusion before meeting the others’ eyes and shrugging.

“Okay, _fine_ ,” he muttered after a minute, sulking, “We’ll watch the stupid movie.”

Volt’s smile was bright, if not a bit triumphant. “Thanks, bro!”

“I still haven’t agreed to it!” Noire snapped.

“It’s four to one, Noire,” Syric pointed out.

“Fuck you, my vote counts more!”

“Does not,” Spark said.

“Does too!” Noire defended.

“Does not!” Volt chimed in.

“Does _too!_ ” they snapped, glowering down at him.

“Does _not_ ,” Amelie cut in, “And since I have the remote, my word is law.” She punctuated the statement by selecting the movie with a flourish as the two ‘main characters’ groaned in unison.

-/-

“I don’t think he’s breathing,” Amelie commented, looking over to Spark with a grim expression, “Sorry for your loss.”

“Good riddance,” Noire said, “I hope the afterlife is torture for him. Fucker deserves it!”

“Give the man _some_ credit,” Syric countered, “I sincerely doubt hell has much on the nightmare we were forced to endure.”

“ _Niihhmarr?!_ ” The word was decidedly muffled, which was a given seeing as Volt’s face was currently being smooshed into the floor. “ _Dat was dee bess mofie I’be eber **seem!**_ ” He yelped when Spark’s fingers tightened into his hair, protests devolving into disgusted noises and spitting as he got a mouthful of carpet fibers. That alone earned a round of vindictive chuckles from the rest of the group.

“What are you even doing, Sparkles?” Syric asked, raising a brow, “Other than helping him analyze our _fantastic_ flooring.”

“Establishing dominance,” the blond replied. He was sitting on top of his doppelganger - perching, really - and shoving his face into the ground with a pouty expression. “And attempting to erase that shitty slashfiction-turned-blockbuster from his mind.”

“Good fucking luck! I’ve been trying to forget it ever since it came out,” Noire huffed, sprawled out in Spark’s spot on the couch. Their Eevee had relocated to the large furpile in the corner of the room and was curled up quite happily on top of Foozball’s head.

“ _Maybe this time_ it’ll work,” Amelie said drily, Volt’s muffled cackling adding a delighted countermelody to the soundtrack of disdainful groaning. He used Spark’s distaste to his advantage and managed to knock the other off while he was distracted, spitting a few times to try and get the taste of carpet out of his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and pulled off an impressively long strand of cream-colored fur, sending a reproachful look in the direction of the room’s resident many-tailed firefox.

Ember, predictably, ignored him.

“It’s official,” he said, dodging a swat from Spark and tossing the slobbery strand of fur at him in retaliation, “Amelie’s my favorite of you mobster pirates.”

“Aw, well, thank yo-” Amelie paused, pursing her lips. “Wait, what did you just call us?”

He blinked at her innocently, tilting his head. “‘Mobster pirates’? I thought it was a pretty accurate description of Team Rocket.” He shrugged, gesturing vaguely. “I mean, you guys have, like, a patent on organized crime and theft and stuff like that so far as I’m aware.”

“He’s got a point,” Spark said, nodding and waving toward the redhead, “You even already have someone with an eyepatch!” He let out a sharp cry as the nearly-empty popcorn bowl beaned him between the eyes, falling over in a dramatic flail and an explosion of buttered kernels. Donglord and Flerf took that as their cue to jump at him and start licking Spark’s face, his laughing, half-hearted protests unheeded.

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Volt said, stroking his chin and studying the Rockets in the room, “And that’s to check their closets for pin-striped suits.” He grinned when Spark let out an eager noise, helping him sit up and dust off the popcorn. The two Jolteons yipped and danced around and he gave them each a cheerful pat.

“That’s how you’ll be able to tell?” Syric asked incredulously.

“Yup!”

“… Seems legit.”

Noire snorted and rolled their eyes, crossing their arms in defiance. “Even if you _wanted_ to go raid our closets, you wouldn’t be able to get into our rooms without a keycard, dumbass. It would need to be top security clearance, too, because we’re all pretty fucking important.” They sent a smug grin to their subordinates, Amelie responding with a scoff as Syric rolled his eyes but grinned back.

“A keycard?” Volt asked, digging around in his pockets for a moment, “You mean like this one?” He held up a grey card for the others to see, a huge, telling Eevee sticker plastered over the front.

“Will you fucking quit that?!” they hissed, snatching the card out of his hand.

He let it go easily with a jovial shrug. “Nah, it’s fun!” he chirped, sighing dejectedly with the next breath, “Though the fun’s almost gone since I only have one thing left to snatch.”

“Wait, one more?” Spark asked, raising a brow, “What all have you managed to nab?”

“Uh, well, let’s see,” Volt replied, counting off each item on his fingers, “I’ve already gotten their phone, their wallet, and now their room key. All that’s left-” he paused to throw double finger guns at Noire, a cheeky grin splitting his lips, “Is their heart!”

Noire’s expression turned murderous as Amelie choked on her drink at how red their ears went. Spark, of course, was doubled over laughing.

“Dude,” Syric groaned, pressing both hands to his face, “That was, like, _seriously_ bad!”

“You should be _ashamed!_ ” Amelie agreed, coughing.

“Maybe. But, I mean, it got them blushi-” Volt managed, words strangling in his throat as the incensed Rocket Executive all but tackled him to the ground. He let out a yelp of pain when his head smacked against the floor, eyes watering from the sting.

“I’m going to start punching you,” they growled as they climbed on top of him, fisting the collar of his shirt, “I don’t know when I’ll stop.”

“That’s fair,” Volt said neutrally, not even bothering to defend himself.

Luckily for him, Spark had other plans.

He caught Noire’s other hand and yanked them off his doppelganger, letting out his own grunt of discomfort when they managed to turn enough to hit his side with their foot as they fell. What resulted was a scrapping match of cartoonish proportions, and while Noire was plenty skilled (and had zero qualms about playing dirty), even they couldn’t match the two blonds. The others in the room watched on with a mixture of intrigue and horror, none daring to move for fear of being drawn into the fighting – though, the match itself was admittedly tame.

“Nice job, bro!” Volt said as he settled on Noire’s legs, bottom lip split from a nasty elbow to the face.

“Thanks!” Spark replied, crouching over their head and pinning their hands to the floor. “You did pretty well yourself.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet! I could just eat you up!”

“Well, if you’re not doing anything late-”

“Will you two fuckers knock it off?!” Noire snarled, livid beneath the pair, “Watching you flirt with each other is creepy as hell! Seriously, I’m getting fucking nauseous here!”

“Wow. Rude.”

“It’s like seeing two Muks going at it.”

“Now that’s just uncalled for!”

“Derailing for a moment,” Volt said, staring up at Noire’s stomach, “Holy _shit_ , Noire! Your abs look hella rad from this angle.” He sat up, still perched on top of their thighs, and ran a hand over the defined muscles. His expression was decidedly enamored.

“Thank you,” they said primly, hiding their pride poorly, “Now, _get the fuck off of me._ ” They punctuated the statement by bucking their hips, the motion jostling Volt to the point he fell forward. He caught himself by putting a hand on the ground beside their head and the other on Spark’s shoulder, their faces inches apart, identical blue eyes wide with surprise.

“Hey there,” Volt said cheerily, nonplussed.

“Hey yourself,” Spark cooed back, pressing a quick kiss to Volt’s cheek before moving to try and capture his lips. They both looked down when a strangled noise sounded beneath them, brows raising at the expression on Noire’s face.

“You okay, Noire?” Volt asked, concerned.

“Fuck you,” they bit out.

Spark’s grin was the definition of lewd, Volt’s blood staining his lips. “Speaking of fucking me-”

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Syric said loudly, jumping off the couch with surprising speed for a man so large, “I’m positively famished. Amelie, want to go grab dinner?”

“I’d _love_ to, Syric,” Amelie replied, also rising, “I have a sudden need to be anywhere but here.”

“You’re really going to leave me here with these idiots?!” Noire protested, struggling. Volt got off of them easily enough, though Spark had to be kicked in the head to let go of their arms. He rubbed his forehead and glared at them, a faint pink imprint marring his skin.

“Don’t worry, idiocy is not a catching disease,” Syric assured them, “Well, not one recognized by any medical board, at least. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Dick,” they grumbled, waving the duo on, “You’d better bring me back some nuggets!”

“Me too!” Spark said.

“Me three!” Volt chimed in, “I want the blue Pyroar toy, though, if you have a choice. I have all the others!”

“Wait, what?” Noire said, looking at him with a shocked expression, previous anger erased completely, “You have the black Pyroar already? I’ve been trying to get that one for _months!_ ” Amelie and Syric exchanged looks and quietly crept from the room, snatching their coats and wallets as they went.

“Er, well, I _had_ one,” Volt corrected, “It went missing a while back and I can’t seem to find it.”

-/-

An hour, fast food delivery, and a brief spat about the next thing to watch saw everyone back on the couch. Amelie had graciously given her spot to Volt, snuggling happily in Syric’s lap. Noire, of course, retook their position of asserting dominance by being in Spark’s lap, with the added benefit of throwing their legs on top of Volt, as well.

“What the _fuck?!_ ”

“Hey, now,” Noire said mildly, using a file to smooth the edges of their left middle-finger nail, “Watch your fucking profanity.”

“I’m sorry,” Volt replied automatically, seething as he gestured at the TV, “But you can’t tell me that was okay! He made it to the station in time despite that awful boss of his _and_ the traffic jam! He was gonna finally confess! But they ended up on different platforms and she couldn’t hear him because some stupid announcement, so she just gets on the train?! And leaves on a _five year exchange program?!_ ”

“Welcome to the wonderful world of kdramas, bro,” Spark intoned, reaching over to ruffle his hair, “Just wait until they show you _Winter Sonata_. Had me crying like a little-”

“No!” Volt protested, “I refuse! You can’t put me through that shit again - I couldn’t take it!”

“Sounds like you could use some comfort food,” Amelie said, carefully rising.

Noire perked up at that, eyes gleaming. “I want ice cream!”

“Then get off your lazy butt and make it yourself!”

“But _Amelie!_ You make it so _well!_ ” they informed her, gesturing with their nail file, “It doesn’t taste the same when I do it!” They threw in their best Eevee-eyes, smirking when their assistant sighed in defeat. Amelie shook her head and trudged out of the room, muttering something about ‘giant toddler’ and ‘pay raise’ as she went.

Syric let out a snort, rolling his eyes and nudging Volt. “C’mon,” he said, also getting up to follow the petite redhead, “If you ask nicely, she might show you how she makes Noire’s ice cream.”

“Wait, what?” Volt asked, distracted from his anguish already, “Is it special?”

“Yup,” Spark chirped, grinning, “Gives you diabetes on sight!”

“ _Really?!_ ”

“Only one way to find out!” the medic replied. Volt’s brows raised and he pursed his lips in thought. He exchanged a quick look with his lookalike, who shooed him off eagerly, then leapt up and followed the other man out of the room. Noire remained seated primly in Spark’s lap, scowling as they attempted to form their pinky nail into a less wonky shape.

A rare silence descended, broken only by the muffled chime of porcelain being pulled from cupboards and light teasing from the kitchen. A distinct laugh sounded, bright and mirthful from a distance, and Noire glanced at the door, lips twitching slightly in a smile.

“You _like_ him!” Spark accused, grinning smugly when the smile dipped immediately into a scowl.

“Fuck off,” they growled, punching his shoulder, “No I do not!”

“Sure, sure,” he chuckled, rubbing at his shoulder distractedly before pinning them with a sly stare, “Just remember – you liked _me_ first!”

Noire scoffed and rolled their eyes. “I couldn’t like you even if I tried, dumbass.”

“That just tells me you’ve _tried_.”

“Oh, shut the fu-” Their words halted when Spark unexpectedly tensed underneath them, hair raising on the back of their neck from a sudden charge in the air. They looked at him, hands curling into fists at the poisonous yellow shade of his irises, barely refraining from making the first move when they noticed his attention was on the doorway to the kitchen.

A low growl drew their attention and Noire glanced over to the furpile to see all four Pokemon had awoken from their naps and were looking in the same direction as the Team Leader, hackles raised and lips beginning to curl. Even the normally placid Ember seemed disgruntled, tails flicking in agitation as she stared at the doorway.

A special sense of foreboding settled into their gut.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" they snapped, turning back to look at the man they were sitting on and bristling when the Titan ignored them. “Answer me, asshole!”

They didn’t get a response in words, just a quick series of actions and sounds: something made of glass shattering on the floor, a heavier thud following, Amelie’s voice – “ _Volt!_ ” – followed by Syric’s own surprised exclamation, Spark standing swiftly and dumping them on the ground, the sharp taste of ozone entering the air as he stalked toward the source of the noises.

Noire grunted when they hit the floor, already rolling to stand before they’d even realized they’d been thrown. They scrambled back to their feet and followed the blond into the kitchen, barely having time to register the scene before them.

Volt lay unmoving on the ground, skin sickly and pale, almost grey in the kitchen lights. Syric was crouched next to him, brow furrowed as he pressed his fingers against the other man’s neck, muttering a dark curse. He began chest compressions immediately, glancing up at Amelie, who hovered next to the pair. “Get my bag!” he said, voice calm but urgent, “His heart-”

The medic didn’t get a chance to finish speaking.

Spark, no, _Zapdos_ strode toward him, the overhead lights flickering with every step. “Move,” it said, voice overlapping with Spark’s and rumbling like thunder, “ _Now_.”

Syric didn’t need to be told twice, though he deliberated for half a beat longer than most, glancing down with concern at the still body before retreating to a safe distance. Amelie moved near Noire, subtly shifting her position to be slightly ahead of them in case they required protection. While normally amusing, as she was a good two inches shorter than them, the increasing charge to the air made them immensely grateful for her presence.

Zapdos knelt next to Volt, hands pressing on his chest in the same way Syric’s had only moments before. Sparks leapt where they touched, dancing between the bare skin of Spark’s hands and the front of Volt’s shirt, small bolts arcing through the air and slashing along the countertops. Some scored the tiles around the pair, leaving dark, jittery marks in their wake.

“Let him go!” the Titan growled, voice booming and eyes bright enough to burn as electricity continued to crackle around the room, “You cannot do it this way – _he will not survive!_ ” Its words seemed to reverberate around the room, echoing as though shouted into a long tunnel from a far distance, the sounds distorted and somehow, someway twisting themselves into a peculiar faint-yet-roaring pitch that was seemingly beyond comprehension.

A few of the lightbulbs split from the pressure, sparks glinting in the air before sputtering out as the energy in the kitchen reached a fevered pitch. It was enough to make Noire’s bones ache, ears ringing as the force seemed to condense all at once and then… disappear.

The silence that followed seemed to vibrate, tense and _expectant_.

It was broken by a weak cough rising from Volt’s throat, followed by a series of deeper, harsher hacking utterances. He turned on his side and curled up, tucking closer to his doppelganger instinctively, skin regaining some semblance of color as he gasped for air.

The Titan helped him sit up, pulling him closer and running a hand through his hair, shushing the ragged breaths that seemed to rattle his entire frame. Volt simply clung for a moment, trembling fingers digging into Spark’s shirt, before drawing strength from some unknown well and attempting to lean back. His mouth worked soundlessly, lips shaping frantic words that seemed to elude him, eyes glazed with terror and pain.

“I know,” the Titan replied, expression twisting slightly as it pressed Spark’s palm into the center of the other man’s chest, leaning forward slightly so their foreheads butted against one another as Volt mimicked the gesture, “I’ve got you.”

Volt nodded sluggishly, then went limp.

Syric took that as his cue to move closer, kneeling next to the pair and carefully checking the unconscious man over. “Pulse is steady but weak,” he muttered, almost to himself, “I’ll need to-”

“Do it,” Zapdos ordered, pausing before adding a more gracious, “Please. Do whatever you can.”

The medic, for his own sake, didn’t seem too overly smug about the additional plea from the embodiment of storms. He carefully picked up Volt’s limp body as Zapdos rose to assist, both arranging him carefully before making for the door. Noire and Amelie jerked out of their stupor and moved out of the duo’s way, Noire releasing her waist and shaking their aching arm. They didn’t even remember reaching out to her.

“Go with him,” Noire said, motioning at Amelie, “We’ll clean up here and catch up with you.”

Amelie hesitated, glancing at the Titan that remained firmly inside Spark’s skin, then nodded once and turned on her heel. They put a hand out to halt the other, frowning at how it ignored them in favor of, well, staring at their wall.

“What the fuck was that?!” they hissed, swatting at it, “Huh?”

“ _I_ needed to stop,” it murmured, eyes flicking along the wall with disturbing interest.

Noire frowned. “Stop what?”

“I would never to hurt him,” it said softly, “But it could not be helped.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

It continued to ignore them, head turning slightly away to stare at a different section of wall – this one nearly at the floor. Noire realized suddenly that it might very well be tracking Volt’s position, and the thought alone made the hair on the back of their neck stand straight up. There went any hope of sleep tonight. Or ever, for that matter.

Regardless, their thoughts continued to race, adrenaline coursing through their veins after the events that had just unfolded. They reviewed it in their mind, struggling to make sense of the things they had just witnessed, and paused when they recalled the few words the Titan had said before situation had settled.

“Before, when all that lightning shit was happening,” they said, pinning the blond with a scrutinizing look, “You were talking to the other bird, weren’t you – Volt’s Zapdos.”

A rueful smile broke out across Spark’s lips. “We are infinite.”

“Fine. Be cryptic. Whatever,” Noire growled, stepping directly into its line of sight and blocking the view of the wall. “What was the other… _you_ trying to do, then?”

“Return him.” It looked down at Noire, irises continuing to gleam yellow in a way that was distinctly unnerving. It tilted Spark’s head, a jerky motion that reminded them just how inhuman the being standing before them was, before continuing thoughtfully, “Though, that way won’t work. A part of him would return, but… it would only ever be _part_ of him.”

That only served to intensify their confusion (they wondered if it was doing it on purpose). “What part?”

“Something that makes me whole, but him less so.”

Definitely on purpose. “You’re speaking in fucking riddles, birdbrain.” They threw out an impatient hand, growling as they glared up at Spark’s stupid face and the Titan currently using him as a mouthpiece. “Just answer the damn question – what the hell is going on?!”

Zapdos studied them for a moment and they met its gaze readily. “It is instinctual to reach out for that which belongs to us,” it said after a moment, speaking slowly, as though explaining something to a particularly dense child, “It takes a concentrated effort to stop and, sometimes, a certain amount force or coercion is required to make letting go possible.”

“You just _had_ to word it in that particular way, didn’t you?” they asked, unable to help themselves. They waved off the smug, lewd grin the spread across Spark’s face. “Forget I asked. So, what, the other you is trying to drag that dumbass back to his own world?”

“Precisely,” it said, gesturing to the carnage of the surrounding kitchen, “However, as you have just witnessed, the outcome for that method is less than ideal and ultimately results in naught but failure.”

“But _why?_ ” Noire snapped, frustrated. “Why is this happening? Why now? Why to him?”

Zapdos blinked at them. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You aren’t giving me a lot of answers!”

“I don’t owe you anything.” It punctuated the statement with a sniff, lip curling slightly in distaste.

“You owe me _something_ for having Volt almost _die_ on my kitchen floor!” Noire hissed, hackles raised. The intensity of their anger surprised them somewhat, though they blamed the fact they were currently speaking to one of their most hated enemies for part of it.

The Titan shifted, a flicker of an emotion passing across Spark’s face too quickly for Noire to catch, much less identify. Still, it glanced in the direction that the trio had disappeared and let out a sigh, shoulders dropping somewhat. “He does not belong here,” it said, almost regretful as it waved one of Spark’s hands, “I can sustain him, but I cannot keep him sustained.”

“Speak clearly,” they said through gritted teeth, “Or I’m going to make it to where you can’t speak at all.”

“Fine,” it said, glaring them down, “Though we are of different worlds, and our bonds are slightly altered from one another, they are equally strong. In some ways, Volt’s may be further along than our own. Had he been a normal human, unbound to one of us, his being here would be much less of a problem.” It glanced down at Spark’s hands, raising them so it could stare at the fractal burn scars on both palms thoughtfully for a moment before curling them into fists.

“What does his bond have to do with anything?”

Yellow eyes rolled to the ceiling in exasperation. “Because the very nature of our bond plays a part. Strong, unending – able to span across worlds and lives as easily as breathing. We are tethered to the very cores of our beings, and for good reason.”

“‘The cores of your beings’ – what?!” Noire said, scoffing, “That would mean you deal in…” They trailed off, the realization making their blood run cold.

“That’s right,” Zapdos finished for them, overly pleased at their distress, “We bond to our very _souls_.”

Noire’s tongue flashed out to wet their dry lips, barely daring to breathe, their mind reeling with the new information. Normally they’d celebrate one of the birds telling them about the bond so candidly, as they would then be able to use the intel to find a way to rip Blanche away from their frosty parasite. But, as it was, they could find no reason to celebrate.

Still, the concept of bonded souls and Titans reaching across time and space - it made them wish they had a chair to sink down into or a blanketfort to crawl into.

“Then, what just happened was you-” They paused to scowl at their unconscious adoption of the Titan’s inherently confusing syntax. “Er, _Volt’s Zapdos_ trying to, I don’t fucking know, reconnect?”

“Bingo,” Zapdos said, Spark’s lips twitching into a grave frown. “These ‘reconnections’ have been growing more and more frequent as of late. They take a toll on us all, but none so much as my lost fledgling. I can only do so much to protect him, but when the ‘enemy’ is myself and the ‘attack’ is unconsciously done…” It shrugged. “You see? A very easy explanation. I can’t believe I had to spell it out for you!”

“It would’ve been a whole hell of a lot easier if you’d just told me that straight from the beginning instead of dancing around, asshole,” they growled, bristling at its lofty tone and the unwarranted shift in its mood.

“Ah, but it was more fun this way,” it said, glancing at the wall of a moment before rolling Spark’s shoulders. “But, seeing as my fledgling is out of danger for the moment and you are decidedly less exciting when you care about someone, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Yeah, yeah, good riddance,” Noire growled. They would’ve normally argued about ‘caring about someone’, but frankly it wasn’t worth the effort if it meant the asshole would lessen its presence to tolerable levels. They stiffened, however, when a stray thought caught their attention, “Wait, what happens if the damn bird pulls too hard on Volt’s soul? Will he become a fucking zombie or some shit?”

Their question was for naught as the next time the Instinct Team Leader blinked, his eyes had returned to their normal shade of blue. Spark shook his head, blinking a few time as a frown tugged down at the corner of his lips. Reoriented, he made for the door immediately, only to be stopped by Noire putting a hand to his chest. “Hey, quit that,” he protested, swatting at their hand, “You got your answers, right? We _really_ need to go catch up with the others – I’m worried about my bro!”

“Not yet,” they bit out, not dissuaded in the slightest, “Do I need to review my Z-Day manual or not?”

“What?” he said, grimacing and shaking his head, “No! Nothing so, uh, spooky is gonna happen.” But he didn’t meet their eyes and that alone told them he hadn’t filled them in on the full truth. He pushed forward, making for the doorway again, but Noire wasn’t through with him just yet.

“Spark,” they said, pressing harder on his chest and once again forcing him to stop, “What _is_ going to happen? No bullshit.”

The blond stilled, looking off into the far distance with his lips pressed into a thin line. They felt he was just being childishly stubborn and refusing to answer. Couldn’t put it passed him, after all. Just as they were about to turn to alternative (read: violent) methods of getting the truth of him, he spoke a single word, his lips barely moving. “Death.”

Noire’s heart stopped beating for a second.

“What?” they asked faintly, noting how the man’s eyes had begun to water, his shoulders shagging with defeat.

“If we can’t find Volt a way home, and _soon_ ,” Spark paused, swallowing harshly and closing his eyes as if to shield himself from the pain of the next statement, “He’ll _die_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, what a cliffhanger! Sure would be a dick move to go on haitus haha... ha.
> 
> Unfortunately, RL is being kind of a dick to me right now, so I'm having to share that dicketry with you all. Sorry!! Hopefully I'll be able to toss out some other drabbles, but Memers is gonna be on the backburner for a bit.


End file.
